The Elf Queen's Vassal
by Azurite Storm
Summary: The queen of a hidden island sacrifices herself to protect her people from a malevolent threat. But her rebirth is assured, and finding her will fall to her faithful bodyguard. Nova will stop at nothing to find her queen, though before the end, she may find that her devotion runs far deeper than that of a mere vassal. If only she can admit it...
1. Chapter 1

A bit of a divergence from my normal kind of stories, but I was stuck sick in bed and I don't do stuck well. So amid my feverish state, staring at the wall, there came an idea… that quickly gained momentum and started an avalanche of writing. What can I say? When you write twenty eight pages in two days… you just kind of have to go with it. Because why not? I hate leaving things unfinished.

Chapter 1

Looming Shadows

The screams reached even the highest tower of the palace as a red, angry sky painted the night with a false sunset. From her chambers, the queen watched her city burn. The palace gates were sundered, black ooze clinging to the splintered wood.

It would not be long now.

She looked to her bodyguard, Nova, a woman in black armor and indeed an ever-present bastion in her life.

"I won't let them touch you," came the warrior's promise, her blade held ready in her hands.

The queen paused, her lips drawing a thin line.

"It cannot end like this..." she murmured.

"It won't!" the warrior promised solemnly, keeping her gaze fixed on the single door to the royal chambers. The queen closed her eyes with a heavy sigh.

"There is a spell..." she whispered, taking a step forward.

"My queen?" Nova asked.

"But it comes at a great price," the monarch continued. "I don't even know if it will work." Hesitation gave way to resolution. "But I must try. I owe my people that much, at least," A solemn, bitter smile accompanied the words.

Nova's eyes went wide.

"You don't mean..." she protested.

"Yes," the queen affirmed softly, interjecting before her vassal could say anything more. "I can repel them, but the magic needed will shatter my body."

"No!" The warrior's eyes were wide, pleading.

"I will be reborn in time."

"Lucinda!"

The queen flinched, far more at the fear within the warrior rather than the use of her name.

"Our people will endure," she whimpered, eyes misting with tears. "And I can face death, the darkness of the Void, so long as I know all of you are safe." Lucinda reached out a hand and laid it on Nova's tense cheek. "My only regret… will be losing you."

The lament made the warrior shut her eyes. When she opened them again, they were filled with an insurmountable conviction.

"I will wait for you. I will find you." The solemn promise lingered between them before Lucinda turned away, a smile that she did not feel plastered on her face. It would take centuries for her rebirth, that much she knew. And neither human nor elf could outlast the ravages of time. But she wanted to believe those words. She _had_ to believe those words. They kept her hands steady as she gathered the magic from deep within. Power hummed in her veins before she loosed it, shredding her own self in the process. It tore through the castle and surrounding village with a low crack like distant lightning, plunging the land into darkness.

Nova fell backward, blinking in the suffocating black before the wane glow of the moons broke through the smoke-strewn clouds. There were no fires, no sounds of battle. And in the silence, with her eyes fixed on the void where her queen had stood, Nova screamed to the stars.

* * *

Nova flinched at the morning sunlight. She was certain that somehow it had gotten brighter over the centuries.

She stood within the archway of the palace walls, looking down into the city below. Buildings crafted of pristine marble reflected the sunlight, trimmed in a black metal and completed with wood where stone was too heavy or cumbersome of a material to use. To Nova, it almost looked like a city of moonlight as the night wove dark tendrils around it. Elegant curves and pointed archways decorated each dwelling with a craftsmanship that only a centuries-long life could achieve.

A greeting broke through her musing. Nova nodded to a group of two women and a man, each of them bearing long, ivory hair, alabaster skin, and pointed ears. Their loose robes swayed as they walked with a graceful, unhurried stride. Still, their calm eyes missed little.

Nova almost envied them as they passed, running a hand through her shaggy, black hair that was cut to frame her face. Her ears lacked the shapely point of her fellows, but were far too pronounced to pass as a human's. She offered herself a rueful smirk. They were a mutt's ears, a half-breed's, a mongrel dog's. She'd heard it all growing up, but she rather doubted anyone would mention as much to her now. After all, their island home might be large, but it left little room to flee an angered soul. Specifically one proficient with a sword.

Nova snapped back to focus, chastising her wandering mind as she pushed forward to stride down the main road through the city. The smell of hearths and baked bread mingled with the steady peal of the blacksmith's hammer as he worked. She took just enough time to glance at the piece upon the anvil. Black metal glowed vibrantly as he shaped it into the growing form of a blade. She touched her own sword fondly. The blacksmith's arms were stained with soot, his steely hair bound tightly, high on his head. She left him to his work, her feet taking her down a narrow, cobbled road toward the docks.

Their island was large, having once housed well over three times their meager two hundred people. She cast a wry smirk over her shoulder as she looked back. They had an entire island to settle, yet they still clustered around the palace. By the Spirits of their Ancestors, her people were a predictable lot. Nova resettled the pack on her shoulders and turned back to her task, unable to fight the homesickness that already blossomed within her. She pushed it aside, taking a deep breath. This could be the day, after all. It would be rude of her to be late.

"Look who decided to show up," a voice chuckled.

Nova's head whipped around to see a dunmer waiting beside a boat just large enough to brave the ocean's waves to the mainland. His leather armor was dyed a charcoal black that almost matched his gray skin, offset by the fiery vibrancy of his short, auburn hair. His belt was adorned with a sword and dagger, each in worn scabbards.

"Sorry," she offered, hurrying to join him. He gave a listless shrug in response, unperturbed. But that was Aveth, in a word. He never seemed bothered by being one of the only nonnative's on the island, aside from the occasional trader permitted to settle there, or a shipwrecked survivor who never quite managed to tear themselves away from their starlight city. Indeed, for him, there seemed few problems that his calm disposition could not solve. For everything else, there was the tip of his sword.

"Nova," he pressed. "The men are impatient."

Nova cursed her absent mind and shook her head, striding up onto the deck of the boat with Aveth at her back. The sailors did not wait for a spoken word, but cast off at once, their lithe forms muscled from their daily exertions. Nova watched the receding shore, leaning against the railing at the stern of the ship as she tried to banish the ache in her heart.

"What troubles you, old friend?" Aveth asked knowingly, drawing up beside her and likewise folding his arms on the railing beside her.

Nova opened her mouth, but shut it and simply shrugged instead.

"Do you fear this voyage will be fruitless?" he asked softly, his low voice filled with compassion.

"That's… not it," she refuted, shaking her head.

His ruby eyes searched her blue ones before she turned her head away.

"You are weary," he said solemnly.

There was a long silence before Nova finally replied.

"Yes."

But it went beyond a sleepless night, a long day. Aveth pursed his lips, brow furrowing. He opened his mouth to offer something comforting when a voice called from the ship's bow.

"Lady Nova, the Mist," the captain entreated.

Nova pushed away from the railing and met him at the bow. She stared solemnly at the thick line of fog before them as they drew steadily closer over the undulating waves. Her hands flashed green as she pushed it aside, nudging open a gap just wide enough for them to slip through. An heirloom of their Ancestors, the Mist had kept them hidden from the outside world for ages, diverting ships that entered it with a gentle hand. Favored traders managed to pass through on occasion, provided they had been gifted the proper amulet by the island's monarch. Her queen... Nova closed her eyes, feeling all at once the weight of the time that had passed and the final look in her queen's eyes. Three hundred years had not dulled the pain, nor the weight of her failure. Nova opened her eyes once more, the Mist falling back into its proper place behind them. Soon it faded into nothing more than a smudge on the horizon as the ship sailed on, battling the rocking waves for supremacy.

Nova's hand reached up to touch the chain of an amulet tucked beneath her armor. This time… Ancestors please, let the signs be right.

* * *

Nova flinched at the harsh cry of vendors as they pushed through the Outlander city's market district. The smell of bodies permeated the air, making her grimace further. She paused and loosed a small sigh. Perhaps she shouldn't be so critical of them. After all, she _was_ half human herself. "Was" being the optimal word. Though… perhaps that fact could be argued. She glanced to Aveth, keeping pace beside her. "Was" indeed. She rubbed her neck absently as they ducked beneath the cool shadows of an awning, tucked out of the way.

Their eyes tracked dutifully as a woman wove her way through the streets before them, her curly brown hair bouncing with every step as a basket swayed from her arm. Nova worked desperately to scan the woman's round face for any clue, but the distance made the task too difficult.

Aveth laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Go," his deep, rasping voice bid, as he pushed her gently.

She took a long, steadying breath and nodded, striding off through the crowd. Her steps came easily through the mass of people only because she knew Aveth was watching. Ancestors, he was always vigilant, regardless of his tranquil air. Perhaps it came from centuries-long practice.

Nova followed in the young woman's wake, few of the citizens even marking her passing. But then again, the Outlanders hardly noticed the thieves skulking among them, lightening their valuables. Nova pushed on as her quarry vanished down a side street. The narrow path began as an alley, then turned into a series of tiny dwellings all huddled against one another, sharing their side walls. Nova glanced at them, certain that if she stepped inside, she could touch all four walls from the center. Ahead, an open doorway packed with three little boys and a dog allowed her a view that confirmed her theory.

"Morning, Mira!" one of boys greeted. The woman turned and lifted one hand from her basket to wave.

Nova waited for a handful of heartbeats in the shadow of a crooked door before following. She did not look at the boys, not even as the dog loosed a trio of barks at her. They, in turn, paid her little mind. Her sleek black armor made almost no sound thanks to an enchantment. It was sequestered beneath a drab brown cloak, and though the sun was garishly bright, she did not pull up her hood. After all, it was one of the most guaranteed methods of arousing suspicion in guards and citizens alike.

Mira came to the end of the row and ducked beneath a wide gap in a half-hearted wood fence. Nova followed slowly to find another street that looked much the same, though narrower and cast in shadow. Despite the abominable architecture, the streets were clean, as were the houses. The cloaked warrior marveled at it, always having found a city's hovels to be coated in filth at every point in her travels.

Mira pushed open one of the doors and set her basket down inside. No sooner had she shut the door than a knock sounded on it. She pulled it open and looked out quizzically at the warrior beyond.

"Pardon my intrusion," Nova offered politely, with a slight bow. "But I wonder if I might have a moment of your time."

Mira hesitated, brow furrowing.

"I only have a question for you," Nova placated, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace.

"Alright then," Mira agreed with a small nod.

"Were you born under the sign of the Lady?" Nova queried.

Mira blinked for a moment before her mouth turned up in a wry scoff.

"What does that matter?" she asked.

"Please," Nova entreated softly.

Mira sighed and nodded with an, "Aye."

"And upon your birth, was Secunda full?"

"How on Tamriel should I know?" she scoffed. "I was a babe."

"A foolish question, I'm sorry," Nova soothed. "If I may ask one final thing of you, I promise I will leave your home in peace." The words were… mostly true.

Mira grimaced with a huff of irritation.

"Very well," she sighed harshly, if only to be done with it.

Nova reached up to her own neck and pulled a necklace from beneath her armor. From the silver chain hung a single gem of milky white that almost resembled a budding leaf.

"Would you," Nova began softly, "hold this for me?"

"Oh no," the woman rebuked, with the pointing jab of her finger. "I know your type! I'll not play accomplice to some thief! That's trouble I don't need. If you want somewhere to stash your ill-gotten goods, you can find it elsewhere!"

Mira made to close the door. Nova surged forward in a breath, grabbing the woman's wrist and forcing the jewel into her hand.

"Forgive me," she whispered.

But nothing happened. As so many times before, the stone remained dull and lusterless. Nova shut her eyes and swore in a voice so low it was almost inaudible. Mira, however, was rising from her stupor. She thrashed and drew in a breath to scream.

Nova's hands glowed green as she snatched back the amulet and pressed her fingers to the woman's face.

"You are not the one," Nova whispered, the solemn lament constricting her throat. "And now, I need you to sleep," the warrior murmured as Mira's eyes glossed over. In a breath, she collapsed into slumber, caught by a black-armored arm and lowered gently to the ground.

Nova's feet drove her hard as she strode back through the streets and returned to Aveth. He needed no words, nor the solemn shake of her head to know. The defeated, dejected look on her face was enough. They turned away, leaving the market behind them. It was a long, dragging silence before either of them spoke.

"And just so you know..." Nova grimaced bitterly. "I tried the method you suggested."

Aveth smiled.

"And it worked brilliantly?" he surmised.

"Quite the opposite," Nova replied, mouth barely moving as the words shuffled out. "She was suspicious of me from the first moment."

"Well that makes no sense," he mused, brow furrowing. "They were simple questions. Short and to the point! You must have seemed menacing."

"Hardly," she glowered. "I'm going back to my way."

"Your way is the most convoluted, haphazard, abomination of a plan I have ever seen in all my centuries," he deadpanned.

"You wouldn't know a good plan if it leapt up and bit you!" she shot back. "Besides, at least the people I talk to aren't already scared of me before I can even offer my name!"

He kept walking for several steps before lifting a single finger.

"Do you recall nearly losing the amulet… in a fish? All _because_ of your brilliant plan?" he asked.

"That was _your_ plan," she retorted with a scathing glare.

His open mouth, paused, then rubbed his chin.

"Was it?"

Nova merely rolled her eyes with an exasperated growl and offered a prayer to the Spirits.

* * *

Reina hung up her apron and dashed up the narrow steps leading from the inn's kitchen to the living quarters above. She ducked into her room, kicked off her shoes and all but threw her clothes to the ground before pulling out a set of russet robes from her dresser drawer. Snatching up a small cord and wooden comb, she spun on her heel and scampered back down the stairs.

"Bye Dad!" she called to a fit man with thick muscles and a gray beard.

He left the pot he was stirring and embraced her quickly. "Bye sweetheart. Thanks for giving me a hand. Sorry if it made you late."

"It's fine," she promised, waving the words away before hurrying for the door.

"Tell your instructor it was my fault!" he called with a chuckle. He paused and surveyed her retreating form with the acuity of a father before he cupped a hand to his mouth. "Boots, Reina! Boots!"

Reina skidded to a halt and stared down at her bare feet. She wheeled with a cry and flew back up the stairs, reemerging a heartbeat later as she hopped down the flight with first one foot, then the other, tugging the boots on as she went.

"Thanks Dad, love you, bye!" the words flew from her mouth as she grabbed a satchel hanging from a peg by the door and vanished into the street.

George watched her go, chuckling as he returned to stirring the pot over the fire. He adopted a playful air and smirked to the fire as if it had become his daughter.

"Why, bye sweetheart! I hope you have a wonderful day. You're welcome. Also, you forgot your breakfast on the table. I hope you're not too cranky come lunch time. Don't worry though, I'll make you something nice when you get home. Because I'm the greatest dad ever. Of all time."

He finished with a toothy grin, striking a dramatic pose. From the corner of his eye, he spied his apprentice Luke, a thin, wiry lad currently wearing a rather puzzled expression.

George's smirk did not falter as he turned to the youth.

"This is hardly the strangest thing you've ever seen me do," he reasoned.

Luke's face scrunched as he considered that, then nodded several times, moving away to grab an apron off the wall without a word.

* * *

Reina hurried down the street, combing out her hair as she went. She frowned and pulled a pale golden lock to her nose, inhaling. Yes. She definitely smelled like bread. But there were significantly worse things to smell like. Case and point, fish. With a shrug, she flicked the hair back, holding her comb with her mouth simply because it was easiest as she hurried up a stairway. She gathered her hair and pulled it over her shoulder, braiding it with practiced fingers as she went. Trotting down another street, she came to a large building with an elegant wooden door. She withdrew her small chord of leather from her pocket and tied the end of her braid before tucking away her comb and pulling open the door.

Whiterun's temple was lovely in its own right, done in elegant architecture. But Reina focused instead on the four pairs of eyes that turned to her.

"Reina," said an older woman, her gray hair in a bun atop her head. Yet her short frame and slightly stooped posture could not diminish the wisdom in her eyes. "You're late." There was a smile attached to the words, as if her mentor found her own private amusement in pointing out the obvious.

"I'm sorry Healer Lee," Reina replied hurriedly, bowing her head. "I was helping Dad and lost track of time. It's my fault. I'll do better."

Lee's grin grew wider before she chuckled. The airy, wistful sound brought Reina's head back up.

"I'm teasing you dear," the woman admitted, waving her into the room of four smaller desks and Lee's large one. "We were just about to begin. Take your seat."

"I told you she'd fall for it," snickered the red haired Miranda with a smirk that was mischievous, but not cruel.

"Rude!" Reina protested, sliding into her seat in a flurry robes.

"You have to admit, it was a little funny," stated Vara. The bosmer woman's amber eyes were perpetually kind, regardless of whom they looked upon, offsetting her choice of a stark and clean-shaven head.

"I had nothing to do with it," a flat voice assured.

Reina smirked and glanced to a young woman sitting with her head pillowed on her arms atop the table. Her pale face was lost amid a mass of curly black hair.

"No one thought you did, Raven," she assured, then added with a devious chuckle, "It would take far too much energy."

"That's right," Raven affirmed happily, drawing herself up with a yawn and stretching her arms like a cat.

"Girls," Lee inserted patiently. "Shall we get started now?"

"Sorry Healer Lee," the women replied, almost in unison.

"Excellent, now if you've been keeping up with your reading, you'll notice today's lesson will be on sleeping aids."

"I thought it was splinting broken bones..." Reina murmured aloud, fearing she was on the wrong chapter.

"You've been reading ahead, dear," Lee mused absently, pulling out a stack of parchments.

"Oops," Reina offered ducking her head.

"Show off," Miranda smirked, sticking out her tongue.

"Keep your tongue in your mouth, Miranda," Lee chastised, not bothering to look up from the notes she was flipping through. "You're not a five-year-old."

"She might be," Vara observed casually, chin pillowed on her hand.

"Hey!"

"Enough," Lee cut in, no louder than before, and yet they all fell silent at once. "Now, we will be starting by discussing chamomile. It grows most commonly in..."

Reina freed her feet from her boots and crossed her legs in her seat as she pulled out a parchment and began to take notes.

* * *

Whiterun had grown in the many decades since last she'd been there, shabby homes spilling out of the shelter of the main wall and covering the once-fertile farmland directly adjacent to the city itself. Of course, back then there had been dragons dropping from the skies every third day... Normally Nova would have shrugged and professed it an Outlander problem, but today she found herself pitying them. They had no Ancestors to guard them against such things. She glanced to the massive city wall and winced. It's protection was now negated by a series of archways through it that led to the sprawling sections below. With the expansion came a new series of shops and inns, tucked away neatly in their own little corners between houses, along with a small market, and even a row of manors in the far distance. Around the dwellings ran a simple wooden wall of sturdy logs. She supposed it had been meant as a temporary measure, but the city's growth showed no signs of slowing, no doubt delaying construction of any more permanent fortifications. Nova turned her gaze back down to the house in front of her with a sigh.

She reached up and knocked again, the trio of impacts sounding like thunder in the open street. They waited, Nova's hands curling into fists as she resisted the urge to pace.

"It seems your spy isn't at home," Aveth remarked.

"He's not a spy," Nova snapped. "He's an informant." She knocked again to the same effect.

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We should return in the morning. We'll have better luck then."

She scowled at the door, and for a moment, Aveth feared it would burst into flames. But in the end, she grudgingly nodded and turned away stiffly.

"We have time. We will find Lucinda," he offered, then gave a smirk. "As long as the Spirits guide our way."

His encouragement brought a wry smile from her.

"Aveth, you don't believe in the Ancestors," she pointed out.

"Yours, no. But mine are quite reliable."

The wicked grin he shot her brought a bark of laughter from her lips.

"You realize that's absolutely illogical, to believe in one and not the other?"

"You're illogical," he shot back.

For a time, neither of them spoke, walking along in companionable silence amid the sun's set. A din of boisterous voices rose in the distance as they turned a corner to find the cheerful, welcoming light of the inn nestled among a series of shops.

"Come," Aveth bid, offering her a hearty slap on the back. Nova stumbled forward. "A warm meal and a warm bed will do wonders."

Nova simply nodded, following dutifully.

* * *

The roar of voices was almost too much for Nova to bear. Her arms tensed as the crowded inns' patrons jostled her chair and drew far closer to her than she would have liked. The smell of unwashed bodies soured the warm aroma of food and threatened to turn her stomach. Aveth however did not seem to be bothered, his watchful eyes seeing everything. She envied him, truly.

A woman wound through the crowd, pushing people gently aside with a cheerful apology. She came up to them with a relieved exhale.

"Whew! Sorry about the wait. What can I get you?"

Nova only half listened to the menu the woman recited, glaring at the patrons sullenly.

"Is it always this crowded?" the warrior asked before she realized the question had left her lips. She winced at herself and glanced up at the woman, offering an apologetic look.

The barmaid laughed with a warm smile that helped soothe the tension in the armored woman's poise.

"No," she shook her head. "See those men at the far end of the room?" Nova followed her gesture to a group of warriors clad in leather armor who were in fact the greatest source of noise in the room. Or for leagues… "I'm afraid you've come just in time for their return from a hunting trip. Rather successful, if you believe even half of their boasting," she added with a smirk.

Nova offered a smile in turn, finding a strange, soothing peace in the woman's gentle, freckled face.

The barmaid tucked back a loose strand of pale, blond hair that had escaped her braid.

"Now, can I get you something?" she repeated politely.

Nova looked to Aveth who answered for the both of them. The woman nodded politely and vanished back into the crowd. For perhaps the twelfth time since they'd found seats at the small table, someone ran into Nova's chair. Her face soured. It was going to be a long night.

A/N: I've been holding on to this one for a while. No more. Let it be free! -overly dramatic stance-


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hunters Hunted

Nova stretched as much as her armor would allow and descended the stairs into the inn's common room. It was mercifully vacant and blissfully quiet. She looked around, yawning, to see the tables shone with polish and the chairs were neatly stacked. Her gaze wandered the room searching for the absent innkeeper. A curtain partitioning a doorway behind the bar drew her attention. Beyond it, she could hear the sounds of cooking. The warrior bit her lip. She probably wasn't supposed to go in there. Buuut… No, she shook her head and cast the thought away.

A heavy thud shook the floorboards from beyond. It was punctuated by a cry of pain and a swear.

Nova sprang forward, hastening behind the counter and pushing aside the curtain before poking her head inside. A frown creased her face when she found no one behind it.

"Hello?" she called, moving into the room fully.

A groan rose from behind a line of barrels near the corner. She followed it to find a collection of heavy sacks of grain the size of her torso scattered in a haphazard pile. Beneath their mass poked the arms and head of a man with a gray beard as he rubbed the back of his head. He gave her a chagrined smirk.

"Good morning," he winced. "I don't suppose I could convince you not to tell a soul about this, could I?"

Nova couldn't help the wicked smirk that tugged at her.

"I could be persuaded," she chuckled, hefting the sacks off of his legs.

He wriggled from the haggard heap and stared at the mess. Well, at least none of the bags had broken open. With a sigh, he looked to the broken shelf on the wall, the source of his predicament, and began to stack them on the shelf below it. Nova did the same without a word. He blinked for a heartbeat.

"Hey," the innkeeper blinked, watching her heft the sacks two at a time. "You're pretty strong!"

"Thank you," Nova replied absently.

"If you're ever interested in a new line of work..." he offered with a grin and a good-natured wink.

"Nope," she replied with a sidelong glance and a sly smile.

They finished their task in companionable silence before the innkeeper stood back to admire their work. He ran an appraising finger along the gouges torn in the wall by the broken shelf.

"I think I'll have to reinforce them all," he mused, scratching his full beard.

Nova offered no comment, wondering how she could politely excuse herself.

"Oh!" the man said, clapping his hands together sharply. "Where are my manners? Name's George!" He spun to her and offered his hand in greeting.

"George," Nova repeated slowly, rolling the unfamiliar name on her tongue.

"It's actually Wulf, but when every third man in the city's name is Wulf… Well, my brother gave it to me and it stuck, so George it is," the innkeeper smiled.

Nova frowned.

"He could have chosen something more… normal," she commented.

"It was better than the _first_ nickname he gave me," George deadpanned, but his mirth was back in the next instant as he laughed heartily. "Now for saving me from the terrible hoard, let me at least get you something to eat! No arguing!" he insisted as he saw her mouth open.

George paused and sniffed the air stiffly. With a swear, he dashed to the other end of the kitchen where a massive hearth dominated the section. Over the roaring flames sat an equally massive pot whose lid was just beginning to rattle as frothing broth pushed from under it and dripped down into the fire, hissing as it spattered.

"No you don't!" George insisted, picking up a long-handled wooden spoon and looking as if he was about to physically beat the boiling mixture into submission.

Beyond Nova's view of the battling man and the rebellious pot, a door opened, letting in the gentle light of dawn with the crisp morning air. The barmaid from the night before stepped in and shut the door behind her, a basket's handle tucked into the crook of her arm. Her eyes snapped to the warrior at once.

"Oh! Good morning!" she smiled. "I didn't realize we had company."

Nova's mouth opened to reply, but no words came out.

"We work in an inn," George chimed, without turning around. "We always have company!"

The young woman ignored the quip and grimaced at him instead.

"You need a hand there, Dad?"

"No, no, I've got it," he assured, freeing one hand to quite literally wave her away. "But would you grab our guest some breakfast for me?"

"Sure," she nodded, moving toward a long counter that dominated one wall and setting her basket down. Nova noted absently that the basket was filled with eggs just before she simultaneously realized she was staring. She snapped her mouth shut and pointedly turned her gaze in any other suitable direction.

"I'm sorry," the barmaid offered, wincing as she rummaged through the cupboards beneath the counter. "We really don't have that much ready at the moment. Yesterday's rolls and some jam are about the best I can do."

"That's fine," Nova assured, her voice surprisingly soft. She blinked at herself and cleared her throat. "Anything will do."

"There's a wheel of cheese on the shelf," George called. "It just needs to be cut."

"That's alright," Nova interjected, holding up her hand. "This will do nicely. Don't trouble yourselves," she insisted, taking the roll the woman held out to her.

"It's no trouble," the barmaid refuted with the same gentle smile she'd worn the night before. "I have to cut it anyway."

"It's alright," Nova repeated yet again. She fought to stay focused as she stared into the woman's warm, green eyes. They were quite lovely. "Thank you," she whispered before turning away and hurrying through the curtained door and out into the common room again. She loosed a sigh, her heart thudding in her chest. She wondered at it for a moment, then shook her head. It seemed socializing with Outlanders must still make her nervous. Nova ran a flippant hand through her hair and made for the staircase to the room she shared with Aveth. It was time for them to be underway.

* * *

Nova approached the sequestered cottage for the second time in as many days, knocking loudly on the door. To her credit, she waited for all of five heartbeats before lifting a booted foot and kicking the wooden construct open. Aveth grimaced at her.

"Nice and subtle," he glowered. "We'll just explain this to the authorities. I'm sure breaking and entering isn't a crime."

Nova winced, belatedly glancing around the street while hoping no one had noticed. The small path had only four other pedestrians, and of them, only a man seated in shabby clothes paid them any mind. Nova hunched her shoulders, then thought better of it and stood tall. An old voice rang in her ears: "When in doubt, act like you're supposed to be where you are, and do what you're doing."

Nova shrugged with a grimace and strode into the house. An uneasy feeling built within her that she could not quell. Every other time she'd met with her informant over the years, he'd been here. It was noon. He was always here at noon… A frown creased her face as she looked around.

Dishes littered the floor along with what looked like the remnants of a meal, now sour smelling and beginning to mold. An overturned chair near the dark fireplace completed the ensemble, forming a grim reality in the travelers' minds. Nova turned to Aveth, who looked just as dour as she.

Aveth tensed, whirling on his toes as he drew his blade in a single motion. A metallic clang rang out through the single room as the dirty face of a haggard man leered at him, teeth bared.

Nova tensed, drawing her sword in a breath. This was not her informant. She had no time to wonder as two more men streamed through the doorway, weapons raised. She engaged them at once as Aveth crippled the fighter before him with a kick to the knee that shattered bone. The dunmer shoved him away bodily and stabbed one the newcomers just below their unprotected ribs. He was rewarded with an agonized scream.

In the span of a heartbeat, Nova cast away the irritation that clung to her. Emotions in battle made her reckless, as Aveth was always quick to remind her. She lifted her sword to block as her opponent hefted what looked like a short-handled woodcutter's ax, aiming a strike for her head. A dull thud resounded as the weapons collided. Nova danced away, extracting herself and donning a frightened expression. The man took the bait as he charged for her again. She stabbed for his neck, the reach of her sword far superior to the short ax. Her blade speared into his throat, skidding off his spine and leaving a messy, jagged cut that severed half of his neck. He fell, wide-eyed and opened his mouth in a silent scream as a horrible, sputtering gurgle burbled from him.

Aveth dispatched the other two with equal ease, but their triumph was short lived as yet more men streamed through the doorway. Nova swore, backing away to give herself more room in the small abode. Aveth did the same, ruby eyes gleaming.

A thin man with a hooked nose strutted in with a vile grin. He looked between the two and licked his lips. Eight warriors were at his back, though they looked more like brigands in their mismatched armors and worn vestments. His eyes flicked down to the men on the floor and the smile bled from him.

"Lackeys of the little skeever," the man sneered, spitting on the floor with disdain. "Don't you worry. You'll join your master soon enough!"

Nova and Aveth had just enough time to exchange a puzzled glance. Did these ruffians think they worked for Nova's informant?

Aveth's gaze darted around the cabin. This was bad. Aside from the singular window that let in a meager light, there was no other way out. The dunmer frowned, speaking quickly.

"We are no servants of his. Quite the other way around!"

"Bah! Words are cheap. You'll have to bleed your way out of this," the man promised, grinning with brown teeth. "Chain 'em good boys!"

"Now, just a moment Mister Yolk," called a friendly voice, entirely out of place amid the rising stench of blood. The ramshackle fighters hurried to clear a path as a smiling man strode into the room. He wore a silken quilted doublet of rich gold, trimmed in a burnt orange. The gaudy outfit was accentuated with a number of jeweled rings on his fingers and a thin, ebony blade on his hip with its hilt likewise bejeweled. In a strange twist, his head was entirely unadorned and shaved so completely, they could have sworn they saw their own reflections.

"Dear Mister Yolk," the bald man continued. "Let's not be so hasty!" He turned to Nova and Aveth with a wide smile. "My friends, I beg your forgiveness! This is all just a terrible misunderstanding! Let us set it aside for a moment. Now please," he said gesturing to them imploringly. "What business did you have with Mister Ironheel?"

Nova's face scrunched and she exchanged another glance with Aveth. When he shrugged, she lifted her voice.

"We hired him to find out certain information for us."

The bald man nodded slowly.

"Ah, I see," he offered, his tone saturated with apology. "Well, I'm afraid that Mister Ironheel made some very poor choices recently. Most notably, a ledger of mine is now in the hands of some nefarious individuals who have no business with such things..."

Neither of the warriors liked where this was going.

"But please, I cannot allow his transgressions to sully our burgeoning friendship!" he announced, spreading his hands wide. "I'm certain we can help one another, don't you agree?"

"No," Nova groused before glowering at him.

Aveth elbowed her pointedly and made a subtle gesture toward the growing number of men in the room as they trickled in in ones and twos.

The bald man, however, laughed merrily at her outburst, turning to face her fully with a smile that had all the comfort of ooze sliding across her skin.

"Oh come now. It's nothing illegal in the slightest! I'm just asking you to recover my own stolen property! And you may rest assured that the men who harbor it are a dastardly, villainous lot. Indeed, if you should find yourselves in need to thin their numbers, do not let your conscience be troubled."

Aveth and Nova exchanged another glance, this one disbelieving.

"Why should we do anything you ask?" Nova glared. The thought of having to trade with this pile of human excrement just to get at the information she was owed made her cheeks flush with red.

"Why, in exchange for my benevolence, of course," he replied suavely. "I'm offering to open my home to you, to grant you safe passage and let you speak with Mister Ironheel yourselves."

Nova's seething thoughts turned dark.

"Or I could kill you," she said before Aveth elbowed her in the armored ribs again, harder this time.

"You could certainly try, but you're already outnumbered and I still have more men on the way," he said matter-of-factly. "But come now. Good lady, I am a businessman. Having two well-trained warriors take care of a small problem is far better than having the same warriors kill scores of my men before they themselves are killed. Such a waste of good assets." The words dripped with honey as his gaze lingered uncomfortably long on Nova. She barely managed to suppress a shudder.

Aveth stepped forward, ruby eyes veritably glowing.

"You must understand the predicament you place us in. We cannot even be sure _Mister Ironheel_ has the information we hired him to find," the dunmer countered logically.

"Of course!" the bald man gasped, as if suddenly realizing the same thing. "How silly of me! Well rest assured, my _good_ friends! If he lacks the knowledge you seek, I will send out my own people to find the information for you!"

Nova shot him a look that told him exactly how much she believed him.

He smiled even wider, placing a hand to his chest.

"No friends of Quintillius Black will ever want for their end of the bargain being met," came the solemn oath. "That's not good for business," he reminded.

"At no extra cost?" Aveth asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, normally such things would come with a modest fee, but I will waive it for the two of _you_. Let's call it a gesture of good will. I just feel that we could be such _exquisite_ friends." The last word slipped from his mouth like something vulgar and obscene as he looked again to Nova.

For her part, the warrior was more than willing to work out how she could actually make someone physically eat their words. Because if he said 'friend' one more time…

Aveth turned to Nova. They needed no words to exchange their thoughts. _Well this was just _great_. Really. But what choice did they have? Neither of them were leaving this room alive if they refused._

"I suppose we have an agreement, then," Aveth answered.

"Splendid!" Quintillius triumphed, clapping his hands together.

"But I'm afraid we'll have to make repairs to our equipment first," Aveth said pragmatically.

"Of course, of course! I cannot apologize enough for this little misunderstanding!" the man nodded vigorously. "That being said… I can only assure Mister Ironheel's good health for perhaps two more days..."

Aveth grimaced and clenched his fist, but forced himself to nod. So that was how the game was played.

"Now, if you have a map, I can direct you to the area where the thieves made their camp," the bald man offered. Aveth pulled out a map while Quintillius snapped his fingers and a young boy scurried forward from shadows unseen, pulling a quill and ink from a bag at his side. The man took them and marked the parchment with a flourish before nodding.

Quintillius Black turned to Nova and spoke with sickly sweet words that made her skin crawl.

"If you need accommodations, my home is well equipped. I could give you quite a tour..."

"Not if the Ancestors themselves returned from the Far Shore and commanded it," Nova deadpanned.

Aveth wanted to slap his own forehead, but Quintillius's smile only broadened.

"If you change your mind..." he offered with a coy smirk as he turned away, flanked by his men as they marched from the house.

Aveth looked sidelong at Nova once they were finally alone.

"Nice and subtle," he commented, chastising her outright rebuke.

"If you're about to tell me I should have played along, it's _not_ happening," she promised.

"No, but try not to outright anger him," he cautioned. "He seems a dangerous enemy."

"Until I pay him a midnight visit," she grimaced, gesturing with a slash across her throat.

He patted her shoulder solemnly before starting to clean his sword and dagger.

"Killing a man on the battlefield is different than killing a man in his bed," Aveth commented softly.

Nova made a dismissive noise and knelt to pick up a fallen cloak from one of the men to clean her blade before sheathing it. Without looking to see if he was following, she strode out into the empty street. It wasn't fair. Now she had to scamper off to do someone's bidding to get the information that was already hers by right? Curse it all, she didn't have time for this! She had to find Lucinda. Nothing else mattered! But it had been three centuries already… Sweet Spirits of the Ancestors, how much longer would it take? She was going to lose her mind before then.

Shaking her head, she spoke to Aveth beside her.

"Why don't you go on ahead. I'm not very good company right now."

Aveth gave a nod she didn't see and patted her shoulder once before his long strides carried him past her ambling steps. She soon found herself alone with no where to go in the foreign city. The quiet and solitude gave her far too much time to think. Things best left buried bubbled to the fore of her mind. She growled to the sky and forced herself with driving steps to move anywhere but here.

After a time, she found her feet on the path to the inn and sighed. It was better than just standing around here. The warrior pushed open the door, eyes downcast. Her boots thudded dully on the floor as she muttered a scathing swear and ran a hand through her hair.

"Rough day, huh?" asked a voice.

Nova jumped in surprise and turned to see the innkeeper's daughter. She wore a small, patient smile while holding a rag in one hand and a bucket of water in the other.

Strangely, Nova found the tension and anger bleed from her body.

"Rough... series," she admitted, running a hand through her hair again with another sigh.

Reina's face scrunched in sympathy. She set down the bucket and rag on a nearby table and wiped her hands on her apron, fixing Nova with her full attention before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

The warrior blinked in confusion, studying the woman. Outlanders were always rushing to and fro throughout their day. They didn't have time for others and didn't make time. Yet here was this woman with such kind eyes, offering the warrior a sympathetic ear. Nova bit her lip and cast her eyes down, very nearly telling her the weight of her centuries. Spirits of the Ancestors, she was tired. So tired. But she shook her head regardless.

"Thank you, but I-"

Arms wrapped around her, making her jump as a hand fell to her sword out of reflex. Her wide eyes fixed on the slightly shorter woman. An errant thought protested at the notion that someone might see, but she ignored it. Sequestered in the gentle hug, Nova found the weary world just a bit easier to shoulder…

"Now don't get me wrong," the barmaid said softly. "I don't normally give hugs to strangers. But that look in your eyes… it just makes me sad." Nova wondered if she should acknowledge, but found herself unable to speak before the woman continued. "You don't have to tell me your business, but if you change your mind, my offer stands. I'm a pretty good listener." With that, she released the warrior who still stood stunned.

Nova pushed away her stupor with an internal growl. Perhaps the next enemy that fought her ought to just hug her. It seemed an effective tactic for leaving her an ice-brained fool.

"Thank you," Nova replied, perhaps a little stiffly. "I will consider it." She wouldn't, but it was the only response she could think of to get herself out of the situation. "Good day to you, Miss...er..." she paused, realizing she didn't actually know the woman's name and amended, "Miss." She placed a hand over her chest and gave a polite bow before whirling on her heel and hurrying up the stairs.

"Reina," came the answer with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Nova," the name slipped from her lips before the warrior could stop it.

_Blast it all. Why give the woman her name?_

_ Why not?_

_ Shut up._

She reached the top of the stairs and saw Aveth leaning casually on the railing with a smug smirk plastered on his face that told her he'd seen everything.

"One word and you'll only sing high notes," she growled.

"I don't sing," he commented. His smirk widened as her face flushed red, but whether in embarrassment or anger, he couldn't quite tell. Probably both. Maybe he should poke her and find out. She stormed past him and shut herself in their room.

Aveth stretched out both hands, looking at one.

"Let's see… be a good friend and give her some space?" He looked to the other hand, "Or… use this only to annoy..." The dunmer's hands vacillated as if he were physically weighing his options with a wolfish grin on his face. Ah, but the centuries provided him with so little amusement. And this was far too good to let pass.

His long strides carried him slowly, boots clomping on the wood floor.

"My friend, some days you make it too easy," he grinned.

A/N: It's good to be back. :) New chapters on (or around) Mondays. Because Mondays should have something to look forward to. (It sounds less narcissistic in my head...) Have a lovely morning, afternoon, or night. In any order that suits you. -Azi


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Shadows of the Past

Aveth led the way as they left the Outlander city behind them and made their way across roiling plains filled with straggly, golden grass. The sun beat down on their heads in unseasonably warm weather. They turned north and west, following an old animal trail up into the mountains. Smoke from cook fires drifted into sight long before they found the neat rows of tents sequestered between two peaks. It gave the warriors more than enough warning to crouch down and approach carefully. They turned and all but crawled through a cluster of dense foliage that adorned the mountainside. Though dead, it gave more than enough cover for them to remain undetected. They watched for a time as the sun lifted from its languish on the horizon up to its zenith.

Men and women milled about below, completing chores in equal measure, some tediously cutting firewood while others used the fuel to cook large pots of something they could only guess at from their distance. Meanwhile, children ran to and fro with the carefree joy of youth.

Aveth finally broke the silence.

"They do not look like criminals to me," he remarked as if half-expecting as much. Nova nodded her agreement before he continued. "We should wait for nightfall. Let's refrain from killing anyone until we can be certain of things."

Nova frowned in thought for a moment. Looks could indeed be deceiving, but... she shrugged and offered a nod, having learned long ago to trust the dunmer's judgment.

"There was a cave back there we could just poke our heads into..." Nova offered with a smirk.

Aveth replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh come on," Nova complained. "Do you really want to sit here all day? I will die of boredom," she added emphatically. "Besides, we could use a bit more coin in our pockets."

Aveth rolled his eyes with a sigh, fighting back a chuckle.

"We go, and we come right back. Long before the sun even sets," he relented.

Nova gave a hushed cheer and led the way.

* * *

The moons had yet to rise as the stars flared to life, leaving the land cloaked in thick shadows. Aveth touched Nova's shoulder in a wordless signal and she reached up to grip his hand in reply. It was time. A brief glow of green surrounded them as Nova's magic set to work, hiding them both from watchful eyes.

They rose slowly, extracting themselves with care from the dead, clustered growth and moving down the mountainside. Aveth led, his steps slow and methodical he approached the tents. Quiet chatter rose from around a single, large bonfire in the center of the camp. He wished it was louder. Invisibility, after all, did not mean everyone around him suddenly went deaf.

Still, they continued, turning toward the largest tent in the camp's center. It was the best place to start.

Aveth crept to the side of the flaps that hung before the entrance, listening carefully. The last thing he needed was for someone to come barreling out of the tent and smack right into him. When he couldn't hear anything from within, he shifted and nudged the flap just enough to allow him to peer inside. The circular space was barren save for a large table in the center and a bed with a chest at its foot. A slender flap on the roof was tied back, letting the silvery glow of the just-rising moons to light the interior. Aveth slipped inside, Nova following on his heels. He looked back at her and she gave a silent gesture that asked "what now?".

He pursed his lips, eyes piercing the dark interior with ease. In the starkly furnished space, the choice was easy. Aveth pointed to the chest before making his way to it, kneeling and pulling out a set of lockpicks. It wasn't one of his more virtuous talents, but it was one he would never abandon... for his own reasons, if nothing else. Nova turned to watch the entryway as he worked. He glanced to her, grateful that being cloaked in the same spell allowed them to see one another. The rigid muscles in her neck and her clenching fist didn't escape his notice. She was already at her limit? He winced in sympathy, knowing why but choosing to say nothing at the moment. Fortunately, the simple lock clicked open without a fight.

Aveth lifted the lid and peered inside the chest, finding a leather-bound book set atop old clothes. He opened the tome to the first page and grimaced at the contents. Definitely the right book.

Nova reached down and gripped his shoulder. One glance at her face was enough for him to know. She could not keep them hidden much longer. He shut the chest, locked it again and tucked the book beneath his arm. With a nod to her, they hurried from the camp and made their way back to the inn.

* * *

The smell of the inn's hearth lingered in the air as Nova stared at the dark expanse of ceiling above her. Her body shivered, unable to find warmth despite the blankets enshrouding her. Yet their touch grated on her skin, making her grimace. With a groan, she sat up, clinging tightly to the blankets as she trembled. Her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat, the world swaying.

Nova picked up her sword and pulled the blade free enough to stare at her reflection. Crimson eyes looked back at her. She grimaced and sheathed the blade with a curse. Damn it all. She'd used too much of her magic earlier. She could no longer maintain the spell that concealed her eyes. There was no magicka left in her. Now… now she had to feed. At the very least, she was fortunate that her strain of vampirism required magic to satiate, not blood. She shuddered anew at the thought. This. At least this left her alive, her steady heartbeat setting her apart from an undead abomination. And it would _ke__e__p_ her alive through the centuries.

She stood, but staggered and fell back down to the bed. Her body burned, the world feeling all at once as if she were on fire and covered in snow. Nova gritted her teeth, attaching her sheath to her belt and pushing herself up again.

She had endured worse.

_ The wind tore at her cloak as she stumbled across the gray wasteland. Nova wobbled on unsteady feet, leaning on her sheathed sword to keep her balance. Her gaunt features and sunken eyes painted a haunting image, even if no mortal gaze was present for her passing._

_ She had to find them soon. Her provisions were long gone, and she was leagues away from anywhere even remotely hospitable. Still, she kept walking, praying to the Spirits of the Ancestors to guide her. She would find the way. She would find them. Just a few more steps, and everything would be alright. The words had kept her going for the first few days in the wasteland. But now they did no good as her sword struck a rock in the ashen soil and slipped from her grasp, sending her sprawling to the ground. She rolled over, staring at the mat of gray clouds above._

_ A shadow blocked her vacant gaze, the beautiful glint of ruby eyes watching her. She gaped at it in a mixture of hope and disbelief, but spoke the words she had been told from a meandering line of sources. She did not understand the meaning, but the figure blinked once and paced slowly around her. The eyes narrowed, and for the first time since the loss of her queen, Nova feared death. Not because it would mean failing Lucinda, no. It was deep and primal, the true fear of her existence ending. The figure knelt beside her, and asked a question in a language she did not understand. Her sluggish mind churned, but gave no answers. In desperation, she lifted a leaden hand and grabbed weakly for the ruby-eyed emissary. Her grasp found only air, but the figure at least did not pull away._

_ It dipped its head into view of her glassy stare. It was not his elven features, nor his dark skin that she noticed. No, it was the crimson eyes that glowed with an otherworldly light which transfixed her._

_ "I can't die here..." she pleaded in a hoarse whisper, staring into his eyes. "I gave… my word."_

_ He stared, seeming to consider that for a long moment._

_ "I know… I have nothing to offer you..." she rasped. "But please… I..."_

_ The words sapped her fading strength, forcing her to close her eyes. Keening wind resounded in her ears for what felt like ages, mingling with the wheezing of her breaths._

_ Until something warm dripped onto her lips, snapping her back to awareness..._

_ "Be it so, then," his voice said solemnly. "I will grant you this, if it is your wish. But you will find this existence far more a curse than blessing. Knowing that, do you still wish for it?"_

_ "I do," she nodded solemnly, watching the vague outline of his wrist hover above her face._

_ She could never recall the next moments. They were overshadowed by an agony that left her screaming, a prisoner in her own body as the pain tore through her in an endless tide. The gray sky was too bright, it burned her eyes. Oh but it was nothing compared to hollow void inside her. Magic shifted within her, the pool of energy present at birth remaining, but beside it there grew a hole that began to devour the energies into its yawning chasm. More. She needed more. Spirits above, it would _never_ be satisfied._

_ Everything would be different now. Her people might come to fear her. But it did not matter. Now she could endure the eons and find her queen once more, no matter how long it took. Lucinda. The only thing that mattered was Lucinda._

Nova returned to awareness, throwing the blankets from her shoulders. Pulling open the door, she found Aveth waiting casually on the other side and gave him a pained smile. He always knew.

"Here," he offered, pressing a small blue bottle into her hands.

"Thank you, but…" she frowned at it. He had to know the meager thing would not satisfy her needs. So then why-

He smirked slightly, as if reading her thoughts.

"It's far easier for a dunmer to walk the streets with red eyes than one such as yourself."

Nova closed her mouth. Well… she couldn't argue _that_. Sighing, she nodded and offered no further comment. She had been careless, she knew, pushing herself for so long without replenishing her energies. It was so easy to sap small bits of magic from people. A pat on the arm, a greeting, anything that let her contact another's skin. But she had been far too focused on her mission to think of anything else. A scornful rebuke rang through her mind. After three centuries, it should have been second nature.

She shook the thought away and replaced her spell before stepping out into the night, keeping to the shadows. The emptiness within her pushed her to the nearest building, a small cottage nestled near the city's wooden wall. Nova moved toward it, lamenting that magicka potions alone would not abate her need. They were like eating thin, day-old bread compared to a sumptuous feast. They would not keep her satiated, and the hunger would gnaw at her endlessly, cannibalizing her own magic before she was left hollow.

The cottage's lock came undone at the flick of her fingers, the remnants of her magic painfully low. She crept in, closing the door softly behind her. It always made her feel like a thief, breaking into someone's home. But then again, she was here to steal another's magicka, so really… she was. The thought did not improve her mood, but at least the transaction would not be lethal for the mortal in question.

She squinted into the moonlit confines, scanning the modest abode and finding a single bed in the corner, occupied by a man who was deeply asleep. Nova made her way over on surprisingly silent footsteps that she only seemed able to use when hunting. Her tense hands trembled as she reached out for him only to snatch them back and take a steadying breath before trying again. Spirits, the hunger… This time, she forced her hands to relax as she touched the man's exposed neck with a palm. He stirred blearily, but her free hand glowed with a pale green light as she set it on his arm. The last of her magic trickled into the spell, working to pacify him. But it was magic she could afford to lose to keep him docile… and make him forget she was ever here. Nova smiled as she saw the green radiance take effect, feeling a measure of pride at her own creation. She'd had centuries to dabble in spells, after all.

Nova drew in his energy, her starved body soaking up the currents with ravenous pulls. She bit her lip, head rolling back on her shoulders as the resounding throb in her head mercifully dulled, her skin lost its fickle sensitivity and oh that garish chasm... It ceased to consume her magic, almost reluctantly, letting her own energies begin a slow regeneration as she fed. She glanced down, pitying her chosen prey. The poor man would be exhausted in the morning, not unlike the blooming of an illness, leaving his flesh weak and aching. In fact… it was much akin to what she was feeling now. But his magic would replenish in time. Hers… well no matter how swiftly it returned, she always felt the drain on it, the pool trickling down into the endless void. The drip became a roar the farther she pushed without taking the energies from another.

Nova retracted her hands, breath shuddering from her in a sigh of relief. Ah, but she'd gone too long, pushed too far before yielding to her needs. She would have to find another to feed from before the night ended.

Nova turned away and fled the house with muffled steps. A thought made her smirk in the dark. She really needed to start greeting everyone she met with a nice big hug. Extra long for maximum awkwardness, er magic. Yes. That.

* * *

Aveth did not look up as Nova drifted back into their room and curled beneath the covers. She was likely asleep even before setting her head on the pillow. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before looking back down to the book lying open on the table as he flipped through the pages. Curiosity was always his vice… He smirked at the thought and turned another page.

Aveth froze.

The ink before him blurred and ran red.

_ Nord, male, 10 years old. Breton, female, 16 years old. Imperial, female, 26. Imperial, male 40. Nord, male, 30, missing left arm. Now also missing an eye. Not my fault._

The letters jumbled as he held the page in a shaking, white-knuckled fist. But he could not tear his gaze away, continuing to read as the script changed to an elegant hand.

_Dark elf, female, estimated 30 years but elven features make it difficult._

_ High elf, male, merchandise unlikely to survive due to methods of apprehension. Recommending reassessment of methods for acquiring mages._

_ Argonian. Gender irrelevant. It's uglier than a daedra._

The above comment was marked in the margin with a scathing annotation to maintain professionalism in the records or risk Quintillius' wrath.

Aveth's ruby eyes narrowed, a loathing seething from him in dark currents. His fist clenched harder, nails biting into his flesh. He was better than acting on raw impulse. He was. Perhaps it was an old ledger. One that Quintillius was not proud of, and a remnant of a path he no longer walked.

Aveth knew it wasn't, but the thought let him breathe again… and allowed Quintillius Black to continue breathing through the night as the dunmer donned a merciless smile and pulled out a quill and ink. This would not go without a reckoning.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Guiding Light

_ Nova pushed herself up from the dirt and spat out a gob of blood._

_ "Come on girl, get up!" insisted a gruff voice, though not with cruelty._

_ She struggled to obey, every muscle crying in protest. Her eyes lifted to find the black-bearded Trentus waiting with a his arms folded._

_ "You're no good to anyone like this," he commented. "Get up. Try again," he demanded pointedly._

_ Nova wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, blood and dirt mingling as she stood. A squat wooden post waited for her in the glaring sunlight, a dozen different short poles jutting out from it at all angles and varying heights. Her mind entertained the idea of setting the whole blasted thing on fire before Trentus's voice barked out an order._

_ "Again!"_

_ "No way the mutt can do it," a child's voice sneered._

_ Nova did not need to turn to know who called. At the edge of the ring of fences stood a slender boy and a smaller girl with twigs caught in her hair._

_ "Look, the dog has a stick!" the girl jeered._

_ "Get!" Trentus bellowed, hardly needing to take a step toward them to scatter the children like leaves in the wind._

_ Nova determinedly ignored them, gripping her wooden training sword harder as she began the drill, snapping out a series of strikes. The post swiveled as she struck, forcing her to duck and block as the protrusions lashed back at her. But as she countered faster, so too did the dummy. She got halfway through the drill before it whipped around, smacking her in the head with a particularly vicious strike._

_ Once again, she was in the dirt, this time not entirely sure when that had happened._

_ Trentus responded with a sigh, shaking his head._

_ Nova's arms trembled as she sat there, willing herself not to cry. At the human equivalent of thirteen, the rigorous training each and every day beat her down until there was nothing left. She couldn't do it anymore. Failure after failure compounded on her shoulders, buckling her knees each time she tried to stand. It was too much. It was all-_

_ "You can do it!" cheered a voice._

_ Nova's head snapped up. There at the edge of the training field was a figure clad in white, her elegant robes growing dusty as she pressed against the wooden fence. An army of figures milled around her, scowling. But Lucinda ignored them all as they clamored for her attention, insisting she follow them to whatever oh-so-pressing lesson she needed to attend._

_ The frustration washed from Nova's weary body. Lucinda cheered again, but the words were unimportant. It was the smile, those warm eyes, the wholehearted belief that she could triumph._

_ And the reminder of why Nova was there in the first place._

_ She stood, gripping her mock blade and glaring at the dummy as if it were a true foe. It would not get past her. It would not harm Lucinda._

_ No one would._

_ Nova stabbed at it with a fierce cry. But what flowed from her were not the frustrated slashes of someone who did not understand fighting a stupid totem. No. Each strike was a block, each block was a strike, all done with the understanding that if she missed once, it would cost her her life. Or Lucinda's. She would not allow it. Control was the key, keeping her movements precise and in check. Sweat beaded her brow as she passed the halfway mark in the drill and pushed through. It wasn't perfect by any means as she issued the last stinging strike and leapt backwards, but it was enough. She risked a glance at Trentus._

_ "About time," he commented softly with a small smile. He set a hand on her head and tussled her hair._

_ She bristled, batting his hand away. She was not a child!_

_ Trentus laughed heartily, and began to show her the next drill. Nova's eyes wandered back to the fence just before Lucinda's entourage won and managed to usher her back to the castle. Even so, it was not before the woman a few years her elder gave an odd gesture that Nova had come to understand meant "good job"._

_ Nova, snapped her attention back to her instructor, giving him her full focus. Reminded in full of her purpose, she ran through the new drill in the air. _

_ But as she swung her blade, creeping shadows rose in her mind, casting her further back, back into a time she longed to forget. Wolf-like, leering faces rose over a man with hair the same color as her own, though his ears lacked elven form. He gestured quickly urging her back, his leather armor torn and bloodied. A woman with long, rosy hair and pointed ears ran beside him. She turned and fired three arrows from a massive bow with enviable ease. Fear thrummed through Nova's veins with each beat of her heart, sending her stumbling backwards before she fell hard on her backside. Her legs would not move, not even as her parents continued to shout._

_ In that moment, her father had looked to his wife, a solemn farewell in his eyes. He stopped in his tracks and turned, lifting his blade. Black, lupine shadows that rippled as if covered in oil leapt upon him ripping and tearing through flesh and armor alike. He lashed at their forms, scattering black droplets across the ground before the howling mass drove him down. Her mother's scream drowned her own, but could not cover the pointed crunch of shattering bones as her father's life was torn from his body._

_ Arrows flew from her mother's bow, cleaving through the inky forms and felling them in a vain effort. Nova watched, trembling in the dirt. She… had to do something. But she couldn't move..._

_ Her eyes were fixed upon her father's mangled form, indeed, she could not look away. She did not even see the beast that took her mother. Instead, it was the piercing scream that cut through the forested glade which told her. Another snap of bone plunged the forest into silence. Nova trembled as six sets of ember-like eyes turned to her._

_ Then the world exploded._

_ Soldiers in black armor rushed from the trees and cut through the monsters like the night come alive, a war cry echoing as twelve voices carried it in unity. Nova loosed a breath she hadn't known she was holding, almost daring to relax before a snapped twig sent her head whipping around to find a wolfish enemy leering at her. It bared tenebrous fangs as it gathered itself to pounce… only to turn to ash in a flare of magic. Nova followed the glowing trail back to the source and found a youth only a few years her elder standing with regal poise, her hand outstretched and still lit with the effervescent glow. Silver hair danced in the wind as the figure's simple violet dress fluttered to match._

_ Nova gaped certain she looked upon a goddess. She should probably bow… That was what one did when a goddess saved their life, wasn't it? But all she could do was stare as the figure approached, an enviable grace to her stride. The girl in the violet gown held out a hand._

_ Nova hesitated, feeling all at once far too filthy to even consider touching her hand._

_ "Come," Lucinda bid, voice driving all thought from Nova's mind._

_ She took the offered appendage and the maiden smiled, though her lustrous green eyes softened with sadness. Lucinda pulled her to her feet. The ethereal girl did not release her hand, not even as Nova began to sob._

_ Her parents. Ancestors… why? She wanted it to be a nightmare. But there was no waking from this. Her sobs continued, echoing through the trees like a forlorn wind. Lucinda put an arm around her, and Nova had no will to protest, weeping against the radiant being._

_ It was an age before she calmed. Lucinda lead her from the blood-soaked glade with a gentle hand. Nova followed dutifully._

_ Indeed, she would follow Lucinda until her dying day._

_ She stood beside the training dummy once more, resolution in her poise. The warrior-in-training remained long after Trentus bid her to retire as night loomed. She fought the dummy with resounding, rhythmic cracks of wood on wood, abandoning drill forms to issue whatever strike felt right. Words of caution echoed through her in Trentus's voice. Keeping an eye on the horizon left only one to watch the path at her feet. But she had a purpose, and the sooner she became proficient, the better. She simply wouldn't trip._

_ She would never be helpless again, and next time, she would be the one to protect Lucinda._

* * *

Nova pushed up from the bed, rubbing at her eyes groggily as she sat, blinking. So many old memories… It had been an age since she'd thought about that time of her life. Somehow, feeding always had a way of dragging the past to the fore of her mind. She would have cursed it, but turned her energy instead toward standing and arching her back in a hefty stretch.

With a yawn and a sigh, she began to don her armor while her eyes scanned the room for Aveth. Finding no one but herself, she glanced out the window at the sun. Nova swore. She'd slept well past dawn. That was not acceptable.

The warrior attached the last piece of her armor and slipped on her leather boots before running her fingers through her short hair in a feeble attempt to tame it. The effort did little good as the strands draped down to poke at her ears and neck. She shrugged and made to grab for the door's handle only to have it swing open of its own accord.

Aveth strode in wordlessly, shutting the door behind him and offering a mug of tea. Nova accepted it as she studied his grim eyes. She could not hide her wince, fully expecting a lecture at her flippant care of her own... infirmity. But he was silent instead, moving to the small table in their room and picking up the ledger from its surface. Beside it was a book that looked remarkably similar… Actually, it looked like a perfect copy…

Nova's eyes narrowed.

"Did… you make a copy of the ledger?" she hissed.

Aveth did not answer, slipping the book into a satchel at his side and picking up the other. He lifted a foot and stepped up on the chair before jumping and grabbing onto the rafters that wove across the ceiling. In a breath, he tucked the book away, all but invisible in its hiding place, then he dropped back down to the floorboards with barely a sound. All he offered was a look. Nova's eyes narrowed, but she found her head dipping in a single nod, regardless. He would explain things in his own time.

* * *

Quintillius clapped his jeweled hands as his broad smile widened even more.

"Well done my friends!" the bald man praised running a hand along his book. Today he was dressed in a maroon quilted doublet trimmed in a gaudy gold.

Nova tried remarkably hard not to scowl as she pointedly ignored him. She looked around the large office in which they stood, eyes drifting over the ornate desk to the rows of books along one wall, then glanced to the window. But her gaze always returned to the two men standing behind Quintillius. They were remarkably better armed and armored than the rabble that had accosted them earlier in the cabin. Two more men stood behind her and Aveth. She felt their stares burning into her back.

"Now for your end of the bargain," Aveth said icily.

"Of course!" Quin drawled in a voice that was saturated with so much sweetness, it was a wonder his teeth didn't rot. "But first, I have a proposition for you both."

The warriors exchanged a glance that bordered on a grimace.

"How would the both of you like to work for me? The pay would be considerable. And of course, there would be other notable benefits." His smile turned lewd as it lingered on Nova. Her eye twitched slightly. Seriously. Him. Physically eating his words. How could she make that happen?

If Quintillius noticed her displeasure, he ignored it and continued speaking. "Warriors of your caliber are hard to find. My eyes tell me you didn't kill a single soul in the camp. I find that quite impressive, if a bit unusual."

"I'm afraid we'll have to decline," Aveth cut in through clenched teeth. "We're needed elsewhere."

Nova glanced to her companion. Was he just as sick of this toad as she was? Still, it was odd to see him thus. He was the proper one, always mindful of an unwritten etiquette she so often lacked. Yet there it was, a silent, roiling rage clinging to him throughout the morning. It raised the hair on the back of her neck.

"A shame, a shame," Quintillius sighed, but whether the disappointment was genuine or feigned, they couldn't tell. "But I suppose I understand," he drawled. "Though if you _ever_ change your mind, you'll find me _more_ than accommodating."

Again that vile stare lingered on her, and again Nova grimaced. A book. Thrown at his face. At high velocity. It was as close as she was going to get.

"We'll keep that in mind," Nova said curtly.

Quintillius smirked and bid them an overly fond farewell before he waved a hand. Nova felt more than saw the men behind her open the doors.

Aveth spun on his heel in an instant, leaving Nova to hurry and catch up. In the hall stood a man dressed in what looked to be some sort of uniform. A white vest and black jacket trimmed in that same gaudy gold met their scrutiny as the two warriors waited. The man ushered them down the hallway and a subsequent flight of stairs. On the ground floor, he pushed on through another short hall and into a study before reaching up to the wall and pulling on a mounted candle stick.

Nova's face scrunched in disbelief as a click resounded and the man pulled on a bookshelf only to have it swing forward like it weighed nothing. A secret passage. Of course there was. Of. Course. Hm, well maybe she really should have taken the tour Quintillius had offered…. But then again, that was probably just some sort of innuendo. She pushed her thoughts away as the well-dressed servant plucked a candle from the wall. To her disappointment, it did not reveal another passage. The man continued wordlessly down a flight of stone stairs.

Aveth stood on the precipice, jaw tense. Nova frowned and touched his arm. He glanced to her, but did not seem to see her, eyes snapping back to the gloomy underground.

"You can stay," she offered softly, brows furrowed.

Aveth managed to swallow, and shook his head curtly. There was no way in Oblivion he was letting her go down there alone. He touched the satchel still draped over his shoulder.

He had to do this.

One foot moved before he could think about the repercussions, then the other, and soon he found his slow steps leading him down the stairs. Nova stayed beside him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. He was silently grateful.

The warrior looked to her ruby-eyed companion with a calculating gaze. Aveth did not fear the dark, nor being underground. Their adventures over the centuries had given them no shortage of such places to delve into. Yet now she saw fear. The emotion was foreign to his face and painted it with an alien light. She had to wonder then, what was it that plagued him?

He offered no words as they reached the bottom. The servant led them around a short, angular hall to a large door and inserted a key. With a click, the lock snapped free, and he pushed open the door.

Aveth did not move. He took in a slow, steadying breath and simply stared.

A long hall was illuminated in the candle's wane light. Six cells lined either side of the passage, the bars like silent sentinels. Only one figure moved in the gloom, barely visible in the meager light.

Nova's eyes widened before a snarl dominated her face. A dungeon. He had an Ancestors damned dungeon beneath his house. What kind of person had something like- Well, actually, she knew exactly the kind of person that had something like this under their house.

Aveth swallowed hard and stepped through the door. The servant waved them on, leaning against the wood casually as if he had nothing better to do.

Nova watched, a part of her wondering if the man could actually speak, but she ignored the musing. Her focus turned entirely to her companion as his stiff steps took him down the rows of cells. She followed, glancing back on reflex to make sure the servant was out of earshot.

"Aveth?" she whispered.

He did not respond, eyes fixed on the far away figure huddled in the shadows as he stopped walking.

"Aveth," Nova persisted softly, catching his wrist. He snatched it away before she could manage a proper hold on him. His body quivered like a bowstring drawn tight. "Aveth, talk to me," she pleaded.

Silence dragged between them for so long, she wondered if he'd even heard her. Nova did not move, afraid to shatter the fragile threads between them.

His voice finally whispered through the space. It was distant, and somehow, entirely not his own. "If you are not hunter… you are prey. But hunting is too troublesome for them, and thus, you're kept as cattle for their every whim and want."

Nova blinked.

"And there you are left," Aveth continued in nearly a whisper. "Left in a cell too small to escape the refuse and muck, where sunlight becomes a half-remembered dream and the manacles cut into your skin at every turn. Until one night another illness sets into your flesh, and you're actually grateful for it, because the monsters leave you alone for a time. But when you wake from its embrace, you find a hunger you've never known devouring you, and only then do you begin to understand."

Nova's eyes went wide as she found it suddenly hard to breathe.

"Why… didn't you ever tell me..." she managed. She reached out to grasp his hand, and this time he allowed it, glancing back at her with heavy ruby eyes. He opened his mouth, shut it, then was silent for a long time before trying again.

"I was afraid that somehow… it would make me less in your eyes," he admitted in the barest whisper.

"Nothing could be further from the truth," she assured, drawing closer to him. "If anything it makes you more." Nova swallowed hard, then had to ask. "How did you escape such a place?"

That brought a bitter smile to the dunmer's lips.

"An elf with scarlet eyes," Aveth said. "He looked at me through the bars and told me that a hunter should not be caged. He freed me from my shackles, and we walked the world for a time. Until the guard found him…."

Nova bit her lip. What in the Ancestors' names did she say to something like that?

"I..." she began only to bite off the words and try again. In the end, all she could manage was, "You don't have to be here. You can-"

"No," he said softly, shaking his head. "This is precisely where I need to be. For you and myself." Aveth turned to her, squeezing her hand and offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "My struggle is over," he bit his lip. "Or rather, it's all up here." The dunmer tapped the side of his head, his words coming haltingly. "But _your_ struggle is here and now. And very real. I must put mine behind me. One step at a time. Come."

Nova was not entirely sure of that, but could not find the logic to refute it. Thus, she simply followed as Aveth continued down the passage. But he did not let go of her hand, and she did not ask him to.

They came to the last two cells and looked within. At their right, a huddled mass of shadow growled and spat at them.

"Oh good, more dogs."

Nova's eye twitched at the jeer, but she brushed it away. The warriors glanced between one another.

"We do not work for Quintillius," Aveth assured.

"Sure," the man drawled, sarcasm dripping from the single word.

Nova released Aveth's hand and knelt, calling magic to her fingers and letting a cold light fill the space.

"Do you remember me?" she asked gently.

The man stirred, shielding his face from the illumination. Still, she saw black bruises on his face, standing out in stark contrast against his brown beard and oily hair. He lowered his arm, blinking at her, then made a sound of disgust.

"Ugh, you? Of all the people that could saunter down here, I get _you_?"

"Glad to see you're well," Nova quipped dryly.

"Do me a favor and leave. This place was a right sight better before you showed up. You know what?" he thought. "That's any place really. You and your stupid task. What in Oblivion did any of it even matter?"

Nova stifled a sigh. Ironheel hadn't changed.

"Let me guess," the man continued, sitting up straighter and fixing her with a patronizing glare. "You want your information. Well look around, princess. You paid well, so I put up with your stupid job, but what in Oblivion's name kind of good is gold going to do me here?"

Nova's mouth opened, then snapped shut. Alright, fair point...

Aveth knelt beside her and reached into his satchel. He pulled out an apple, a wedge of cheese, a bottle of ale and a loaf of bread along with a small red bottle. Ironheel's eyes widened.

"They're yours in exchange," the dunmer offered.

The man's eyes narrowed. He studied them carefully for what felt like an age, then sighed.

"Fine, but after this, I'm done with the both of you. I don't ever want to see your miserable faces again," he spat.

"As you wish," Aveth agreed solemnly. Nova was glad of it, because the reply her mind provided was slightly more… colorful.

Ironheel lifted his lip in a sneer.

"The person you're looking for is a student at the temple. That's as far as I could track it before this mess." He gestured around himself before he turned away, pretending not to notice the items Aveth slipped through the bars.

"That's all?" Nova demanded, face flushing red before Aveth put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her away. She followed stiffly.

As they walked, he spoke in a voice so low even she barely heard him.

"He will tell us no more than that."

Nova could not hide her scowl as her hand clenched into a fist. He might if she reached through the bars and rearranged his face. Her mind wheeled. How in the Ancestors' names was she going to- Wait. Quintillius had offered his network of informants earlier. She crushed the thought into dust and buried it in a hole, stomping on it for good measure. There was no way she was asking that man for a blasted thing, and furthermore, she wasn't about to tell him the nature of their search.

They continued to the door and the servant who waited silently. Aveth pulled a small pouch from his satchel and pressed it into the man's hand.

"You saw nothing, heard nothing, know nothing," the dunmer insisted.

A smile formed on the servant's lips as he hefted the pouch and pulled open the drawstring amid the clink of coins. He met their eyes directly and gave a curt nod. Then, with the smiling servant's guidance, the two wound their way back up to the surface and left the house of Quintillius Black far in the distance.

Nova's emotions set her blood to boiling before she was even aware of it. There was only the world in a slight hue of red. That was _all_ she had to find the possible candidate for Lucinda's reborn self? 'One of the students at the temple'. Bah! He would need a temple by the time she was done with him! Did he think this was some silly game?

"Peace," Aveth said, catching her arm and forcing her to meet his eyes as he set a hand on her cheek. "No fate is worse than the one we have left him to."

The solemn words struck her like a stone and broke her from her reverie. Well. Clearly she was bad at hiding her emotions. That or he was able to read her far too well. Probably both. She turned away, shrugging out of his touch.

"I hate this," Nova admitted. "All the wandering from place to place, the searching, and knowing all the while that I could miss her all too easily simply because I can only watch the cities and not the entire countryside. Even if she can only be reborn so far from the island, it's still much too great an area for me to search!"

Aveth let her rant, knowing that she'd held her silence for far too long.

"What if I pass right by her? What if I never find her?" Nova demanded, raking her hands through her hair. She looked back at him and deflated a bit. "And you've had no less of a difficult day than I have. I… I'm sorry, I…."

Aveth offered a soft smile.

"I told you already. My struggle is over," he said. The dunmer tried not to frown as he mulled over her words. In truth, she would be much more likely to never find her queen… But he wasn't about to say as much aloud. "Let's just start with the temple. This is the last person we know of born under the stars and come near proper age for this year. After our time here, we'll work on expanding our network of informants. Or ponder new methods. We'll find her," he insisted instead.

Her rigid stance softened at that.

"Maybe you're right," she murmured, a small smile lighting her face.

"And if you're desperate, we could always ask our _good_ _friend_," he said with a devious smirk as he jerked his thumb back toward Quintillius's home.

"No," Nova shot down at once, glowering.

"Then come," he insisted. "The innkeeper will be able to point us toward the temple."

"How hard could it be to find?" she scoffed.

"It will take longer without guidance," he pointed out.

"Fine," she groaned with an exasperated sigh.

Aveth hid a mischievous smile. Maybe he'd have her ask little Reina… That would be delightful. Oh, but if Nova figured out his ploy, he'd probably wake up dead in the morning. Although one couldn't technically _wake up_ dead, he amended. Unless Nova was secretly a necromancer…. Now _that_ was a frightening thought.

* * *

George's feet resounded on the floorboards as he dashed to a cupboard and wrenched it open only to loose an anguished cry.

"Reina, where's all the salt?" he wailed.

"I think you left it under the bar," she called back, not looking up from the mass of dough she and Luke were kneading.

George's brow furrowed as he opened his mouth. Why in Oblivion was it there? Ah, because he'd had it in his hand when he went to accept the fresh delivery of beef. The realization snapped his mouth shut as he rolled his eyes and tried not to tug at his beard. Great. Because he wasn't behind enough. He hurried across the kitchen and all but tore open the curtain to the common room.

"George!" said a voice with a measure of surprise. He looked up to see the warrior in black armor and the dunmer.

"Hello!" he greeted breathlessly. _Yes, hello, goodbye, have a nice day._

"We were wondering," began the dunmer.

_ No, no, no, he did _not_ have time for small talk or questions!_

"Could you direct us toward the temple?

_ The stew was probably burning!_

"Apparently they hold classes there and..."

George snapped up the large container of salt and rattled off directions to the building so fast, both of his guests blinked.

"Class today has already started," he expunged in a single breath. "Sorry, stew's burning, have to go, good luck!" George hurried back into the kitchen, mentally kicking himself for treating his guests with such little courtesy, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. Standing before the fire, he grabbed for a wooden spoon with an obnoxiously long handle and plunged it into the equally massive pot of stew above the ravenous flames. A relieved sigh escaped him as he studied the miraculously not-burned concoction and poured in the salt.

He paused only long enough to dash to his daughter and place a kiss on her cheek.

"Sorry to make you miss class," he sighed.

"It's alright Dad," Reina assured. "Besides, I already did the assignment for today and asked Healer Lee what I would miss. It's not that important of a day."

"But still," George sighed regardless.

"It's not like you ask me to skip class every week," she said, though the smile she wore as she said it faltered slightly. "Besides… it's Mom's day. I can't miss out on that. Especially since you promised I could make the pies this time." She grinned wickedly.

"Did I?" he soured.

"You did," Reina confirmed.

He did?

"You did," Luke chimed in agreement.

He did.

George sighed in defeat.

"Not snowberry," he finally bemoaned.

"Apple is boring," Reina scoffed.

"Your mother would disown you for such blasphemy!" he protested with mock indignation before his face softened and he leaned down to kiss Reina's head. The first of the month brought with it a sacred tradition in sharing his late wife's favorite recipes. It was their busiest day, and for good reason. That woman had been a culinary marvel… before the frost had taken her when Reina was only five. A particularly violent hiss tore George's thoughts back to the present and sent him dashing back to his grand pot before bringing up the wooden spoon like a threat.

"Alright you! I'll give you something to snarl about!" he announced to it.

"You also promised not to yell at the food," Luke reminded.

"Now that I _know_ I didn't say," George refuted.

"Worth a try," the young man sighed.

Reina cast him a sympathetic look and they continued their tasks.

* * *

Nova swallowed hard as their steps took them steadily closer to the temple. What should she do? What should she say? Three centuries into her quest and it got no easier. The questions persisted, rolling around in her mind in endless spirals only to be joined by more. Would Lucinda's reborn self remember her? Would she remember anything? What should she say? What should she do?

She plodded on silently, fighting the urge to tear at her hair. What if she said something stupid and Lucinda wanted nothing more to do with her? Worse still… what if Lucinda remembered actually dying? Or that Nova hadn't been able to protect her… Nova had failed her. The warrior shut her eyes.

Aveth walked beside Nova, studying her with knowing eyes and a worried frown. But he hardly needed her rigid movements or her subtle sigh to tell him her mind. She was like this every time they approached a new candidate. He took a deep breath. This time… this time he had to say it.

"Nova…"

She turned her head to acknowledge him, but didn't look at him.

"You'll wear yourself down like this," he said. It wasn't what he meant to say, nor what he should have said, but it was a start.

The warrior, however, did not answer. He persisted.

"Don't think of the next one _as_ Lucinda," he finally cautioned. This time the words were the proper ones. "If you do, you'll be disappointed each time." He paused, then amended. "You _have_ been disappointed each time."

A scowl formed on her lips as she opened her mouth. He hurried to interject.

"I know you miss her."

The soft statement stole the building ire in her like wind from a ship's sails, leaving her mouth slack.

"And it's perfectly fine to miss her. But you can't keep doing this to yourself." He paused, forming his next words with care. "Besides, regardless of who she was, she will have a new life with new people in it now. You may even find… that you do not have a place at her side anymore."

Nova's throat clenched, threatening to strangle her of its own accord. She barely heard the last of Aveth's words.

"Even if she has been reborn, she will not be the same woman you knew. If you're waiting for her to remember you…." He winced as he trailed off, hating himself for saying it, but… it needed to be said. Still, Aveth lifted a hand and draped it across her shoulders, not out of affection, but rather to lend some manner of comfort. He expected an explosion of anger, a scathing retort, and maybe a swift elbow to his stomach. But her soft words surprised him more than any counter.

"I… realize that," Nova murmured, head low.

Well. Didn't that just make him feel like he'd kicked a puppy. Silence dragged like nails across their skin as he retracted his arm. Finally, he had to change the subject, if only to end the painful interlude. Besides, if he was honest, he really had forgotten the details on...

"The amulet," he said. "Remind me again what..."

Nova eyed him sullenly. His abashed gaze as he ducked his head made her sigh and relent. She touched the slender chain hanging from her neck, grateful for the shift in topic. Her mouth opened, but it almost felt like another person speaking.

"I found the amulet after she…" the warrior could not say it. "After I picked it up, there was a voice. Or maybe several. But they all said the same thing. 'Seek the girl marked by the stars of Lucinda's birth. The amulet will react to a resonant soul, but should you have doubts, bring her to us at the Senge Stones and we will find the answer.' Beyond that, it was a sense, an image of the area I needed to search. Or rather… the limit of the distance she could be born from the island. No, not the island, the Well." She glanced to him, suddenly fearful that her words would sound like foolish, desperate raving. "It was the Ancestors, Aveth. I know it was."

"I do not doubt that," he assured, patting her shoulder. The Well of the Ancestors, hm? She rarely referenced it when they were outside of the island. But then again, if he had a specific place where his Ancestors resided eternally, he would keep it quiet too. His mind shifted thoughts and asked them aloud. "What do you suppose it meant, 'a resonant soul'?"

Nova pursed her lips. That had been a long time ago. She'd memorized the words, written them down both on paper and across her soul. She would never forget them, but still...

"I'm not completely sure..." She shivered as the memory resurfaced of something ancient burrowing into her mind and sharing with her by images and sensations, as much as through words. The remembrance filled her, lending strength and conviction to the words she spoke even as she wondered how she knew them. "I think the amulet will glow for a soul akin to Lucinda's."

"Why can't it _just_ be for Lucinda's?" Aveth muttered with a sigh.

Nova searched her mind but found no answers.

"Because that would be useful," she grumbled bitterly.

Aveth agreed in a huff of breath. Such unreliable Ancestors.

The temple came into view and Nova swallowed hard. Aveth approached and set a hand on the door. He turned back to look at her pointedly and offered a smile.

"Let's just go in and see what kind of new people we can meet today."

Nova hesitated, sighed, then nodded.

"Sure."

* * *

The temple was strangely warm despite the lack of a fireplace. Bright candles and welcoming windows banished the dark as the fresh smell of wood permeated the air.

Aveth led the way, for which Nova was decidedly grateful. He scanned the interior and made his way to a small room adjacent to the main area. From an open door drifted an aged voice, the reedy quality lending a strange credence to the words. As Nova listened, she realized what she was hearing was a lesson on lavender. She fought back the perplexed curl of her lip. What good was a stupid flower? Certainly it wasn't worthwhile enough to warrant what sounded like a lecture!

Aveth stepped through the door, Nova in his shadow. The voice stopped abruptly as they found themselves standing beside its source. A short woman with gray hair in a high bun blinked at them for a moment before a wide smile stretched over her wrinkled face.

"Welcome," she said softly.

"Forgive our intrusion," Aveth offered with a slight bow of his head.

"That's quite alright," she assured. "Are you here for the class?"

"Yes," Aveth smiled. Well, in a way it was true…

"Wonderful!" she said softly, pressing the palms of her hands together. "We get so few newcomers!"

"Where you from?" asked a red-haired woman casually from the front row of desks.

"An island off the coast of-" Aveth broke off as Nova jabbed him in the ribs.

The aged instructor's smile became a smirk at the gesture.

"An island?" she almost _had_ to press. "It must be lovely. What do you do for fun?"

Aveth couldn't stop the words that flowed from his lips.

"Oh her?" he asked with an exaggerated gesture at Nova. "She doesn't know what that is."

The gray-haired woman chuckled, as did the three other women in the class. Nova, on the other hand, shot him a look that could have probably melted several ingots.

"I'd be bored on an island," remarked a raven-haired woman in a lackluster voice.

"I think you're always bored, my dear," commented the instructor.

Something akin to a sigh rose up from the head pillowed upon the folded arms, and yet somehow it managed to convey agreement.

Nova's eyes widened as an idea struck her. She had to fight the urge to cheer at her own brilliance. Because if it worked, she should be thrown a parade. Or two.

"It's a pretty peaceful place," she commented in an offhand manner, then adopted a boastful tone. "But we live quite comfortable lives thanks to our trade network. It's actually fairly exclusive. Those lucky enough to do business with us gain access to the gems from our mines… and the unique metal from which our armor is forged." She touched her chest plate almost reflexively. "Though by far, the most sought-after export of ours are our crystals. They form no where but on our island and their beauty is unrivaled." She lifted her head and let pride saturate her voice for extra effect. "In fact," Nova said, as if suddenly realizing something. "I can show you. Here."

She pulled the amulet from her neck and offered it to an elf in the first row, looking joyful and proud as she did not give them an opening to politely refuse. The bosmer woman accepted the item and stared at it.

The amulet began to glow with a dull light.

Nova secretly bit her lip hard to stifle her gasp and keep her rooted in place for fear of cheering like a deranged fool. A wood elf. She hadn't expected Lucinda to be reborn as a wood elf, but why not? Lucinda had, in fact, been elven. Sure, the shaved head was a little… different, but that was… fine.

As Nova began to formulate a plan for speaking with the woman, the bosmer shifted in her desk and passed the amulet to the student behind her. The black haired woman lifted her head and held the jewel as the glowpersisted dimly before she passed it along with a yawn.

Wait.

What?

Nova blinked, unable to form any other thought as the gem fell into the red haired woman's grasp and burned slightly brighter. The student studied it a moment.

"Why does it glow? Is it cursed?" she asked.

Nova was still blinking stupidly as she processed the words. Alright. That was unexpected. But it was fine. It was. She could work with this. All she had to do was figure out their birthsigns! Easily done! Yes. Sure. Of course. This was easy!

Nova held out her hand for the amulet and tucked it away once more. She just had to suavely question them and find her queen! Easy!

* * *

Nova rubbed at her ear as she and Aveth hurried from the temple. Out in the sun's warm rays, the dunmer shifted his gaze to his companion.

"So," he said, drawing out the word as he tried to find more to go with it.

"I don't want to talk about it," Nova groused.

"That went… well," he remarked.

"Spirits!" Nova swore. "That old lady's strong! She didn't have to drag me off by my ear!" The warrior continued massaging the offended body part.

Aveth wisely held his tongue, just managing to keep the laughter building inside him from spilling out. Instead, he gave her a hearty slap on the back.

"Come on, let's get some food in our bellies and mull over how to salvage… _that_," he offered, this time unable to keep the wicked smirk from his lips.

"It wasn't that bad!" Nova protested reflexively, cheeks flushing. But… yes. Yes it had been.

"I wouldn't show your face in there for a few days," he cautioned with a wince. "I think the old lady was ready to dig a hole."

"Dig a hole?"

"And bury you in it," he nodded.

"That bad?"

"That bad."

Nova's face soured as a heavy frown dominated her features.

"Alright… so maybe… I should work on mastering tact this century," she commented.

"Please," he entreated emphatically.

* * *

Aveth sipped his tea, hiding a devious grin as he cradled his mug in both hands. His eyes drifted across the packed common room and boisterous chatter to where Nova stood at the bar. She wore a smile he rarely saw upon her face these days. For once, she was oblivious to the crowd and press of bodies. She did not stand like a bowstring pulled taut and ready to break. The bodyguard was gone, replaced by someone so scarce to him, she might well have been a stranger.

Aveth's ruby eyes softened into warm joy.

Nova shifted position, revealing Reina on the other side of the bar just as she laughed. The sound was lost to him amid the crowd, but it didn't matter. Nor did the fact that he'd been sitting there by himself now for the better part of the evening as the sun's last rays lit the windows with gold.

He sipped his tea again, still wearing his private smile. Truth be told, he really didn't care to know the difference between ale and mead. They both tasted vile.

Ah, but the question had gotten Nova to get up and go talk to the woman.

A/N: Thoughts so far?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A Long and Winding Night

Aveth crouched on the mountainside as the burgeoning night's inky cloak wrapped around him. Below, the light of a large fire shone like a beacon, illuminating familiar rows of tents. He took a deep breath and his hand clenched around the forged ledger he carried. This was a fool's errand. What did he honestly know of these people? What did he hope to really do?

But… he had to do something. He had to know. He'd walked away again. Just as before, he'd watched another's eyes from behind cold bars… and walked away. Ironheel was only the latest. It had started with those trapped alongside him in that daedra-cursed place. Back then, the thought of helping them hadn't even crossed his mind. No… that wasn't entirely true. It had. He'd simply been too terrified of being thrown back into that wretched cage to dare anything but complete obedience to his savior. Or rather, his new master.

Aveth snapped out of his thoughts with a growl. He gave his face an encouraging pat and stood to a crouch. It was time to go, time to see, to find answers. The past could not be changed. But there was nothing to stop him from what he did now. He only wished he'd told Nova what he was doing. She knew his plan, but… He smirked. She'd found her way back to Reina again, this time helping her with her work. Aveth's grin widened. How in his Ancestors' names could he pull her away from such a noble endeavor?

He made his way down the mountainside, choosing each step with care. The skittering slide of loose rocks would hardly be optimal for remaining undetected. He reached the first low tent on the outskirts and hunched low beside it, peering around the canvas frame. The sight that greeted him made him bite his lip in thought. His eyes saw families huddled around the fire, eating dinner together as their chatter mingled in the air. Children sat between their parents, speaking loudly as they told stories, some of which only made sense in their young minds.

Aveth bit his lip again, the beginnings of a bad habit forming. They did not look like bandits to him. They certainly didn't dress as such. But they could well be thieves. And yet the leader's tent had held no adornments, neither golden nor gilded prizes within its depths. Even the locked chest hadn't held anything of value, and the paltry lock was hardly what he expected from a thief who went through the trouble of securing something in the first place.

Aveth loosed a silent sigh and moved through the camp, pausing frequently to glance around. Crouching was not invisibility after all. The thought sent a pang through him, and again reminded him that he probably should have asked Nova to come. He sighed and let the thought drift away. Nothing for it now.

He reached the familiar large tent again and paused beside it. When there was no sound from within nor the telltale gleam of light, he pushed open the flap and ducked inside. Finding it as empty as he'd surmised, he stood… and found himself suddenly at a loss.

Well. He was here. And just what did he plan to do now? Admittedly, that part had been… less well thought out. Aveth grimaced at himself. Sometimes age really didn't make you any smarter. Almost as if in rebellion to his thoughts, his mind began to mold a sharper, cleaner plan and a budding smile bloomed. It wasn't perfect, but maybe the best way to find something out was simply to ask.

* * *

Paff pushed aside the flap of his tent, patting his stomach with a contented sigh. That soup had been the best he'd had in months. He probably shouldn't have had three bowls, he mused as he gingerly poked his feet through the dark, feeling his way. As his hand found the table in the tent's center, Paff stopped. Something… wasn't quite right. He could not place it, but the feeling built, raising the hair on his neck. The air shifted, and he sucked in a breath only to have a hand clap over his mouth and the edge of a dagger press against his throat. A deep voice rasped in the dark, crushing the words from Paff's own throat. He tensed reflexively, halting his hands as they tried to fly up to tear himself free.

"What did you intend to do with the ledger?" it demanded, the muffling hand releasing its hold to wrap around his chest, pinning his arms at his side.

Paff's face scrunched, then slid into a toothy glare at the darkness.

"Another one of his brutes then? You dogs don't know when to give up."

There was a pause, as if the unseen voice was considering.

"No," it refuted simply. "I do not work for him. Nor shall I."

Paff's nose wrinkled. Who on Tamriel said "shall"? Before he could open his mouth, the voice repeated it's question. "The ledger of Quintillius Black," it specified pointedly.

"You want to know?" Paff snapped, voice rising so much the blade pressed harder to quiet him. "I was going to throw it to those miserably useless lot of guards, wave it in their damn faces! Then when the words slapped them in their thick heads, they'd have to arrest the motherless, black-hearted snake!" He heaved in great breaths, hands shaking at his sides. That wretch wouldn't get away with it…

"Then it seems we have a common enemy," the voice mused. "Or rather, a common goal."

For a heartbeat, there was silence.

"Care to move your blade then and get your damn hands off me?" Paff snapped, ire getting the better of him. To his surprise, the sharp prick of metal receded and the arm released its hold. He leapt away, spinning on his heel to inspect his former assailant. The scarlet gaze of a dunmer met his scrutiny.

For his part, the elf only sheathed his blade.

"I am Aveth," he offered, reaching into the satchel at his hip. "And I believe I can offer you something to soothe what I'm sure is a poor first impression." From the bag he pulled a book that looked remarkably familiar.

Paff's face soured. This was the scrawny whelp that had taken it?

"Doesn't soothe a thing," he glowered. "Opposite in fact."

The dunmer winced and made to reply but Paff wasn't interested, snatching away the book instead.

"So you stole it," he glowered, cracking open the spine and thumbing through the pages. "Just to give it back?"

"Actually, that's a forgery," the elf corrected.

Paff's rigid jaw went slack.

"A forgery?"

"I get bored over the years. Learning new skills keeps it interesting," Aveth offered, almost sheepishly.

Paff snapped his mouth shut as his eyes narrowed.

"You made a whole new book and copied the contents… in one day?"

"Oh no," Aveth refuted. "I scavenged the parts from… elsewhere."

"And copied it," Paff repeated pointedly, mind fixating on the point.

"Sleep is overrated. Besides, are you really complaining?" the elf asked, lifting an eyebrow and the corner of his lip in turn.

"Hmph, suppose not," Paff replied, continuing to scour the contents. He'd very nearly memorized the ledger himself with how many times he'd read it. This… It was perfect, right down to imperfect spelling, blotches of ink, and the entire litany on Quintillius Black's misdeeds. A lupine grin worked its way onto Paff's face. He had that snake now. But… wait…

"This is one of his tricks, isn't it?" he asked in a dangerously low voice, reaching for the ax hanging from his belt. "You give me this and then I go off and no one ever hears from me again."

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have," Aveth replied with a detached, cold logic.

"Then what in Oblivion do you get out of this? I don't have any gold," he said, shutting the book and bringing it close to his chest as if it would fly away.

The crimson eyes narrowed.

"A monster caged," the dunmer growled darkly.

Paff fought the urge to take a step back. Instead, he gave a small, if hesitant, nod.

"That we can agree on," he said, voice taking on a dangerous edge. "My little Mila… he took her. She's only thirteen. We traded everything just to get her back. But now… I won't stop until he's locked up to rot. Just like he did with my baby girl! She's not the same… Barely eats, can't sleep… She doesn't smile anymore," Paff snapped off his meandering thoughts with a growl. Here he was running his mouth to a stranger. But… "Trouble is, it's not enough to condemn him."

"He'll find a way to squirm out of his sentence," Aveth said with a nod, words dripping with disdain. "His kind always do. I'm sure he'd blame it on another and claim he was only the poor bookkeeper, forced into it by a big scary bad man."

"Exactly," Paff snarled, then looked the elf over. He seemed capable enough..."But… there's another ledger, according to a man named- er, it's not important. Point is, he says there's two ledgers. This is the one he could get, but the other? It's got everything. Hundreds of souls he's stolen from their families, every shady deal, every ill-gotten coin. And best of all, it ties it all directly to one Quintillius Black." Paff spat the name as a curse, studying the dunmer with a critical eye. "Look… you seem like you can get in and out of places..."

Aveth was already nodding, regardless of what the next words were.

"There's a fort not a bowshot from town that the pompous fool has claimed as his own. That's where it is. If you can get it… I know someone in the guard who can make sure it gets into the right hands, ones that aren't on the man's secret payroll. Then, we can cast that piece of filth into the very fires of Oblivion."

Aveth's burning eyes turned cold as he agreed.

* * *

Nova paced in tight circles, wheeling around her room as the moon climbed higher in the sky. Where in the Ancestors' names had he gone? A dozen images flashed through her mind: Aveth dead, Aveth dying, Aveth lying in a ditch with a broken leg, two broken legs, lying in an alleyway poisoned, a mob of angry villagers armed with torches and pitchforks chasing him…. The creak of floorboards made her whirl a heartbeat before the door opened.

"Where have you been?" she demanded as Aveth slipped inside and shut the door behind him. She could not stop the words, fear and relief mingling to turn sideways and burst forth as a desperate anger.

He hesitated, blinking at her.

"I was worried!" she pressed. "I thought you were dead!"

"I'm sorry," he soothed, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "You looked so happy that I-" Alright, so it had definitely not been his best plan. Now for several more reasons.

"I turned around and you weren't there! I looked everywhere!"

"I know," he said. "It was stupid of me. I'm sorry."

She strode to him with thunderous steps, and for a moment she looked ready to strike him. Instead, he jumped in surprise as she threw her arms around him. He blinked once, then returned the embrace tightly.

"Don't scare me like that," she pleaded, face pressed into his shoulder.

"I'm... sorry," he managed to repeat softly, still blinking in her embrace. Nova. Was hugging him. By choice. A display of affection? Blessed Ancestors, maybe she had a fever. Or was about to catch fire. Or had been replaced by a very convincing look-alike. He snapped back to focus as she pulled away and cleared her throat, seeming to gather herself.

She did not speak, nor look at him. At length, Aveth began to speak, just to fill the silence.

"I went back to the camp. I… had to know." When she offered no comment, he continued and told her all that had transpired, even his own folly at the lack of a proper plan. "The fort is nearby. If you and I go, we can be in and out before dawn. Your magic would-" He stopped as she turned her stare to him at last. There was still a war raging behind her eyes, but her response was calm enough.

"We… we can do that. Maybe next week or-"

"Next week?" he repeated brow furrowing.

"We need to sort out this mess with the healers," she reminded. "Once I can figure out which one is Lucinda, then-"

"Nova," he cut in pointedly. "That will take time. In fact, it may take quite a while. But Quintillius has ripped people from their families. They need our help _now_, not later. He has to be stopped before he can harm anyone else!"

"So we tell the guard!" she huffed. "Why are you making this our problem?"

"He's bribed half of them! I'm not asking you to go on a season-long expedition!" he protested.

"But after we get this ledger, what then? What more are these new friends of yours going to ask us to do?"

"And after we find Lucinda, what more are you going to do for her?"

Nova bristled visibly, lip curling into a sneer.

He'd hit a dangerous nerve, but he wasn't sure he cared at the moment.

"Nova, think!" he prompted. "If Lucinda were here, what would she do in your place?"

"You didn't even know her!" she flared.

"I know her well enough from your accounts," he countered. "She worked to save the innocent. She would have saved them! _She_ would help!"

"Who knows if the ledger is still there? Or if this is all just some trick! I'm not going on some side mission for people who might or might not be there! Let these people handle it! It's their land, after all. All I care about Lucinda!" she snapped.

"You see?" Aveth spat. "This is your problem! You are so focused on Lucinda, you are willfully blind to anything and everything else!"

"Excuse me?" she balked.

"No, there's no excuse for it! You're being selfish!"

"Selfish!" she raged. "How _dare_ you? Everything I do is for her!"

"Really?" he scowled, lifting an eyebrow. "Because it sounds an awful lot like 'I want Lucinda back and damn the rest of the world' to me." He had the strange satisfaction of watching her eyes shift red as she began to shake with barely contained wrath. But he forced down the feeling and tried a change in tactics. "Nova, when was the last time you ever did anything that wasn't 'for her'? Ancestors, when was the last time you actually lived your life? Did something just because? Did something fun? When?"

"Shut up!" she snapped, rage boiling in her eyes. Her entire body was rigid, fists clenched and shaking. "What do you know about anything? You don't know what it's like to lose the person you-" she snapped her teeth on the word before plunging on with, "who means everything to you!"

"I've lost everyone who _ever_ meant anything to me," he countered, voice dangerously low. "The slow decay of time claimed every single one of them, save my master, who burned at the hands of the guard you so trust! Do not dare think you're the only one in this world who knows pain," he hissed.

She didn't have a good rebuttal to that and it made her all the more wrathful. After a few tense breaths, she finally spoke in an equally low voice.

"These vagabond people managed to function well enough before you entered into their midst," she returned dismissively.

"As Lucinda managed before you were ever in her life," he countered, the cold logic in his words halting the retort he saw building in her throat. His eyes turned sad, mournful. "Nova, I would prefer you by my side, but I'm going with or without you," he declared.

"Then go!" she snapped, glaring. Her tense body still trembled as she fought what he imagined was the urge to punch him.

He gave a single, bitter nod, spun on his heel, and swept from the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

Nova drew in great breaths, fists clenched as she smoldered. She stood there for a painfully long time, just breathing and glaring at the door. He didn't understand a damn thing! He was supposed to have her back. She was supposed to mean more to him than a bunch of strangers!

_ What would she do in your place?_

She tried to ignore the question, but it rang through her mind again.

Nova flinched as her fists uncurled slowly, her gritted teeth parting in a harsh exhale. Lucinda would save them. Like Lucinda had saved her. Because she would understand the necessity of swift action and place the needs of others over her own desires.

Oh damn him to the deepest abyss. But it was too late to go after him, and… she wasn't exactly eager to see him in that moment. Thus, she stood motionless as a frustrated growl escaped her.

* * *

Aveth sat amid the straggly brush beneath the low boughs of a pine tree and watched the fort with dispassionate eyes. The small, flickering light of torches battled to illuminate the dark monolith, but their sparse number could not hope to win. A frigid wind picked up, lashing at Aveth with icy rebuke. He didn't feel it in the least.

Ancestors. That fight had been coming for decades. Perhaps centuries. But he hadn't meant it to happen like that. Every time he'd rehearsed what to say, how to say it, he was calm. He never accused, was never hurtful. He'd kept a level head and never raised his voice.

Aveth rubbed his numb face. Part of him insisted that he should have kept silent, but he knew he couldn't have done that. He could not, would not, sit back and watch her destroy herself slowly. Obsession and devotion were not so different, a knife's edge apart, and should she slip... He feared the consequences if he left it unchecked. What would another century of the hope of finding her queen followed by the crushing despair of another failed candidate turn her into?

Did she not understand? She was the only person he had left. One of the few he would not outlive. And still, he was losing her. Day by day, she fell further into a prison of her own mind's making. Was she driven by guilt? Or was it love? Why did she demand so much of herself and rebuke herself at every failing? Sweet Ancestors, he wished there was some way to break her of this. If only there were souls versed in mending the mind, rather than the body which housed it. Ah, but it was hard enough to drag her to a healer when her body was wounded. It would be nigh impossible to persuade her to one who could treat her thoughts. Especially when she herself did not see the problem.

He simply couldn't watch it anymore and do nothing.

Aveth shook his head vigorously, drawing in great, steadying breaths of frigid air. The icy chill in his lungs gave him something to focus on as he forced the thoughts from his mind. Distractions would be his end. Still, as he stood to a crouch and approached the looming fort, he found that he desperately missed Nova at his back. He'd raided forts and ruins long before meeting her, certainly. But there was something missing now. Another mind to bandy tactics; another blade to guard him, aid him…. Simple companionship.

Again, he drew in a deep lungful of air, banishing the thoughts amid the cold. He had to become a phantom tonight. And phantoms did not have errant thoughts. He owed it to the ones still bound in shackles.

* * *

Nova sat in the empty commons, dressed in a loose, cream colored shirt and matching pants. Her armor waited in a neat pile upstairs after she'd readied herself for sleep. To her credit, she'd managed to curl into bed for all of five heartbeats before she was up and pacing again.

She sighed and lifted a brown bottle to her lips with a grimace at the taste of its contents. Alright, now that was vile. _Still_ vile. She'd wondered if it got better after the first mouthful. But half of the stuff was gone now and it had definitely not improved. Why did people like this stuff anyway? And it was supposed to make her feel better, curse it! At least that's what everyone said…. She lifted the bottle and grimaced at it. Sounded like a pile of horse dung.

"You're up late," a voice commented softly.

Nova set the bottle down and looked up to find Reina crossing the tidied commons toward her.

"This is supposed to make me feel better," she complained.

Reina's long brown skirt whispered as she slid into a chair beside Nova.

"I see," she commented with a sigh. "Then I'll tell you a closely guarded secret among innkeepers. It doesn't."

"I noticed," Nova glowered, glaring at the bottle.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Reina asked as she reached forward and covered the warrior's hand with her own.

Nova stiffened at the contact. If Aveth saw there would be no end to his teasing- Wait. Forget Aveth! He could go sit in a blizzard. She slowly relaxed her clenched fingers and wrapped them around the woman's hand. Her palm was calloused, yet her skin was still soft. It was… nice. Though Nova imagined her own hand was rough, far more calloused, and probably dirty. She really needed to-

"Nova?"

The warrior snapped back to focus as Reina repeated her former query. Nova issued a sigh through her nose as her lips drew tight.

"Aveth and I… quarreled," she finally admitted. The words sounding so stupid in her ears, she nearly picked up the bottle and threw the vile thing. "We haven't done that in a really long time," she tried to explain. "Actually, I don't think we've ever fought like _this_."

"Can I ask what it was about?" Reina wondered.

Nova looked away. Now how did she explain that one?

"There's… something important, _really_ important, that I need to do. But he wants to do something else first." Alright now, when she put it that way, she really did want to throw that bottle at the wall. It sounded downright childish of her. She looked to Reina, meeting those soft green eyes that were strangely absent of judgment. "But the problem… is me." The admission took some of the weight from her heart, yet at the same time, made it heavier. "I know he's right. What I need to do can wait. I've spent this long... what's a few more days? But… I'm..." her halting words trailed into nothing.

"Tired?" Reina offered, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"No. Not quite tired," Nova murmured as if to herself. "It's like an emptiness. A void. Almost like I'm missing something… and can't be whole."

The last sentence was so soft, Reina barely caught it. She did not answer for a time, her lips instead forming a thin line as she thought.

"Well, that does sound like a predicament," she began at last, choosing her words delicately. "But if you know that you're in the wrong, then I'm afraid you'll just have to apologize."

"But he knows this is important to me!" Nova protested in a burst before she reigned in her rising voice.

"Did it ever seem like he'd forgotten, or that he didn't think so?" Reina inquired.

"Well… no," Nova admitted through tight lips. No, in fact, he'd been entirely understanding. Ancestors smack her with an oar.

"Stop me if I'm wrong," the barmaid began, "but it seems like you two have been… traveling together for quite some time." At Nova's nod, she continued. "And he's been helping you in what you're doing for quite a while as well?"

Again, the warrior had to nod.

"Then I don't think he's forgotten the importance at all. I think he's just found something that's equally important to him."

The soft words broke through Nova's glum mood as she loosed a long sigh through her nose. Reina was right. Aveth was right. She was being stubborn, foolish, and probably had rocks for brains. He'd stood by her, supported her all this time. She'd stopped wondering why long ago and simply accepted it as fact. No. Actually, she'd come to expect his help, rely on it. Take it for granted. And in return, she refused to help him? The Ancestors might as well drop a whole blasted boat on her. She deserved it.

"Curse it all," she swore. Nova wanted to let her head fall to the table with a smack, but she might've hit Reina's hand in the process and that was unacceptable. "You're both right," she admitted out loud, then looked to Reina with a hooded gaze and a small smirk. "How'd you get to be so wise, hmm?"

"Born that way," Reina replied with a sly grin.

She did not remove her hand, nor did Nova ask her to. Indeed, she was rather glad. Because she really wanted to reach out and gently tuck a stray strand of gossamer golden hair behind the woman's ear. And after that, well, her cheek looked quite soft and-

"What about you?" Nova blurted, praying she wasn't blushing.

"Hm?" Reina blinked.

"Why are you up so late?" the warrior clarified.

"Someone has to clean up after Dad," she chuckled, flashing a wicked smirk.

"I should think the patrons would be the bigger problem," Nova commented.

Reina's eyes went wide as the mirth vanished and she shook her head.

"No," she refuted, drawing out the word. "No."

Nova couldn't suppress a snicker.

"I mean, I love my dad, sure, but have you seen him cook? Everything goes everywhere. Doesn't matter where it came from," Reina bemoaned. "He gets so focused on what he's doing he forgets anything else, and then who's left to trail after him and clean it up?" Reina answered her own question by thrusting her free hand into the air.

"That sounds more than annoying," Nova commented, smirking at the woman's antics as she ran her thumb over Reina's fingers.

"Today I found our bowl of dried snowberries in the salt container," came the woman's lament.

"Why?"

"I don't know!" Reina whispered, wide eyed. "Why were the leeks buried in the apple barrel? Why was the basket of tomatoes outside? Some mysteries will never be solved!"

"You poor girl," Nova chuckled.

"I love him, I do," Reina sighed, "but some days I want to tell him to go to his room and stay there."

"I can imagine," Nova offered with a smirk.

Reina smiled in return and for a moment, an easy silence drifted between them.

"You know," Reina mused, "I like talking to you. It's… easy."

"Yes," Nova agreed softly. "I quite enjoy your company as well." Her hooded eyes stared at Reina intently, and the woman met her gaze with a smile, never shirking. Nova's mind would have demanded to know why she'd said such a thing, but it was far too absorbed by those gentle, green eyes.

Reina's stare caught a glimpse of something gleaming in the firelight from beneath the low collar of Nova's shirt. Of course, she hadn't intended for her gaze to wander there. She really, really promised.

"What's that?" she asked before realizing she'd spoken.

Nova looked at her quizzically. At the woman's pointing gesture, she looked down to the amulet tucked beneath her shirt. Nova withdrew her hand from Reina's grasp, hesitating a moment before reaching up and slowly lifting the trinket from her neck. She fought the urge to bite her lip as she offered the jewel for inspection. She could trust this woman. In fact, she wanted to trust her… and did.

"It looks like a little leaf bud!" Reina cooed, reaching out a hand.

Nova blinked. The gem had always seemed so abstract to her, but now that she said that…

Reina's fingers touched the amulet and all at once, a blaze of white light shone from it like a star in miniature. The woman cried out in alarm and snatched her hand away.

Nova stared, heedless of the great black spot marring her vision. What in the…

"You didn't tell me it would do that," Reina chided with a somewhat uneasy chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I..." Nova found herself saying.

"Reina?" called a new voice.

The woman turned to see her father's head poking through the doorway to the kitchen.

"Where did the dried lavender go?"

Reina turned back to Nova with a hopeless look and muttered under her breath conspiratorially. "Wherever you last left it."

Nova's wide-eyed expression did not change as Reina stood and gave her an encouraging pat on the arm along with a pointed look. The warrior's mind told her it was a reminder of the apology she owed Aveth, but her sluggish thoughts set it aside for later. Her hand shot out of its own accord and grabbed Reina's wrist. Nova's mouth opened, but her tongue felt thick and heavy.

"Don't worry," Reina soothed. "I'll try and sneak away a little later and we can talk more." The last works were punctuated with a friendly wink.

Nova's face flushed, burning hot as her fingers ruefully released the woman.

"Thank you," the warrior managed to force out. "For listening to me whine."

"Of course," came the soft smile. With that, Reina turned and hurried into the kitchen, pointedly ignoring her father's stare as the curtain settled back into place behind her.

"Something I need to know?" he wondered, casting a suspicious glance between his daughter and the curtain, beyond which sat a warrior that he was now decidedly keeping an eye on.

"Yes," Reina answered at once. "Where you put things." She did not meet his querying stare, instead marching over to a series of shelves in the corner and scanning them intently. "What do you need the dried lavender for, anyway?" she asked to distract him.

"A new pie recipe I want to try," he replied.

"That's going to be awful..."

"I'm not going to use much," he scoffed. "Just a hint."

Reina smirked privately. Get him talking about cooking and he'd be distracted for ages.

Back in the common room, Nova replaced the amulet around her neck. Her gaze lingered on the doorway as she brought a hand to her chest and clutched the gem beneath her shirt tightly. She did not move for what felt like ages, then finally forced herself to stand and move back to her room, shuffling all the while like a dreamer in a trance.

But… Reina was not one of the healers. She could not be Lucinda. So why… did she feel relieved? She searched her wheeling mind but found no answers.

An errant thought made her smile even as it brought tears to her eyes. The amulet only fluoresced for souls _like_ Lucinda's. It seemed Nova had a type.

* * *

Aveth ran, breath roiling in steaming clouds as his feet pounded atop the fort's wall. Time to go. He winced as an arrow streaked past his head in a screaming hiss. Definitely time to go!

He ducked into one of the fort's towers and drew his blade, a task made slightly awkward by the ledger tightly clutched in his left arm. Thunderous footsteps resounded as a behemoth of a man surged into the doorway. Aveth wasted no time as he slammed the hilt of his sword into the man's face. The dunmer winced amid the crack of bone before the warrior collapsed to the floor with an agonized cry.

Aveth leapt over the fallen form and sped on amid a flurry of shouts. It hadn't been his fault, honest. Someone had had the rather rude idea to keep the ledger on a pressure plate. So what if it triggered a few poison darts from the walls? Really, he could sort of feel his feet. And sure, maybe the obnoxious sound of the firing mechanisms had drawn just a little attention. Maybe two or three guards. Really nothing. But he'd snuck into two places tonight and only been discovered once. That was a pretty good record, right?

See, this is why he shouldn't work alone. Nova could have just magicked them invisible and then the guards would have figured it was nothing. Maybe. At the very least, she'd face whatever came, undaunted. He winced as another arrow rebounded off the parapet in front of his face, jarring his focus back to the situation at hand.

His feet pounded out a rhythm on a wooden ramp as he descended toward a lower section of the wall and cast a quick glance over the edge. It looked like he could survive the jump without breaking both his legs. A trio of arrows and a harsh voice that made rather crude promises of what it would do when it caught him left Aveth little chance to ponder a better option than _could_ survive. He sheathed his blade and jumped, flailing in the air for but a moment before he prepared himself. His teeth rattled as he hit the ground and threw himself into a roll.

Aveth cast a glance back and saw five shadowed figures spewing out of the fort's entrance. A moment's hesitation warred within him. If push came to shove, he had the skills to kill them. And they were criminals, leaving him little reservation about the task. But that was not his goal. Moreover, their numbers were increasing by the heartbeat as more of them poured from the fort, turning the odds from "difficult" to "death". The element of surprise was lost to him. It wasn't worth the risk.

In the next breath, he was running again, the steady, driving rhythm lost amid the bitter wind. Shouts faded into nothing as he outpaced them. Aveth allowed himself a moment of pride at the deed. He was hardly winded. The dunmer pushed the thought away with a grim smirk. Angling his steps, he made for a far more circuitous path back to the campsite. Perhaps it was a foolish precaution, since Quintillius himself had given him the camp's location personally, but Aveth could not fight the compulsion for caution.

His drumming steps began to grate on him and threatened to drive him mad before the camp was finally in sight. He stopped, surveying the scene out of habit. Great steaming breaths roiled from him as fatigue finally bit at his flesh, growing ever more noticeable now that he was far from his pursuers and had stopped running. As his eye passed over the camp, he frowned. Something wasn't right…

The fire was nothing more than wane embers. By its light he saw no one moving between the tents. Certainly not unusual at this hour, but something still nagged at him. Fear began to seep through his body, pumped like his very blood.

He hurried through the rows of cloth sentinels, not pausing to look inside as he made his way toward the largest tent. The flap fluttered in the icy breeze as he ducked under it. He recoiled instantly at the metallic reek within. In an instant, he reached back and thrust the flap open wide, letting the moonlight spill into the space. He wished he hadn't.

The group's leader, Paff, lay on the ground, painted in crimson. Burns lined his skin, and that which was not blistered ran black with bruises and ghastly cuts. Aveth reeled, fighting to keep his roiling stomach in check. The struggle left him enough time to see the empty eye sockets, gazing toward the heavens. He looked away, snatching his hand from the flap and letting darkness reign once more. In the last ray of silvery light, he noticed something on the table. He moved to it by memory, unwilling to light the lantern that hung from a nearby peg in one of the tent's supports. His fingers touched smooth parchment. Aveth swallowed hard, unease tightening his chest.

It seemed he had little choice. He picked up the lantern and lit it with a wince.

In the yellowy light, he stared at a precise hand's crisp letters.

_ You really don't understand the concept of good business, my dear boy. Had you left things alone, I wouldn't have had to expend such resources. But as it stands now? I'm afraid I'm forced to make an example of you. My apologies, but I can't have others growing so bold, now can I? Do be kind enough to just come to my home in the city. Hunting you down would be so tedious. A shame too. I rather liked your partner._

Aveth's eyes darkened as a dangerous tide rose within him. He should have been afraid. But this? Everything around him? It was a message. Quintillius could have set an ambush for him, killed him, but instead he'd left a wake of death with a simple note. It was something akin to a game to the man. He would keep them guessing, watching over their shoulders for who knew how long. The moment they finally relaxed and thought they were safe, there would simply be a dagger in their backs.

If Quintillius was merciful.

And Aveth was willing to bet the guidance of his venerable Ancestors that the man was not. What would the fiend do to him? By all that was sacred… what would he do to Nova? The thought turned his stomach far more than the carnage around him. Aveth's ruby eyes veritably glowed as rage boiled within him. He would not let that happen.

Quintillius Black was going to die.

* * *

Nova sat on the bed, her armor still in its neat pile atop the dresser. The passage of stars marked the night long past halfway over, telling her she should probably sleep. But she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes before Aveth returned. She rubbed her face, looking up to the great red moon looming in the sky. There was a shift in the air, and the almost inaudible sigh of hinges.

She did not need to turn to know who had entered, but she did so regardless. With the click of the latch, Aveth shut the door behind him, breaking the silence only by his labored breathing. His eyes darted around the room before snapping back to her as she stood.

Before she could say a word, he told her everything that had transpired that night in a single, rushed breath. He waited for a scathing condemnation. After all, he'd shouted at her, then ran, and now returned with this?

Nova, however, simply ran a hand through her hair, a hard frown furrowing her face.

"Spirits," she swore, before drawing in a deep breath. With a heavy sigh, she looked up to him, meeting his eyes. When she spoke again, it was filled with determination, a promise of what would happen now. "So it sounds like we need to detour from finding Lucinda to deal with Quintillius."

Aveth's mouth opened, already preparing a counter argument when he blinked. Had she just said…? The gnawing pit forming in his stomach shrank. His mouth closed, shifting into a warm smile.

"I think that would be prudent," he nodded.

Nova offered a nod in turn, then glanced to the window.

"It's late though. Maybe we should form a plan in the morning."

Aveth felt his weary body agree.

Nova watched him a moment longer before opening her mouth. She knew the words she needed to say, but for some reason, the simple apology lodged in her throat, fighting her all the way. She clenched her hand, the same hand Reina had held… The memory of the soft, green eyes soothed her and let the words slip free.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, almost afraid to break the silence.

Aveth hesitated, eyes widening almost imperceptibly before a grimace at himself contorted his features.

"I didn't mean for it to all come out so..." he trailed off, looking away.

"It's… fine," she murmured. "I was… I mean..." Nova took a deep breath. When she spoke again her voice was low. "You've been helping me for centuries, all without me ever asking. I took you for granted. I… should've helped you when you asked for it." Nova could not meet his eyes, even though he did not look at her. Why did the words taste like ash in her mouth?

"I'm worried about you," he said, matching her soft tone. After all, something so deeply ingrained in her would not be fixed in a day, nor with a single apology.

"I know," Nova nodded. "I just..." The next thought brought a mist to her eyes. Oh, no, she was _not_ going to start crying like a child. No. Absolutely not. "I just miss her. So much." Her voice broke on the last word, forcing her into silence as she clenched her jaw hard and tightened her throat. She clamped her eyes shut as the detestable tears escaped them. Ancestors, what must he think of her, crying like this?

Aveth looked to her, eyes softening at once. He did not hesitate, nor try to offer any comforting words. He simply strode to her and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

A word choked out from her strangled throat that sounded remarkably like "sorry".

"Don't be," he assured her, setting his head against hers. "Let yourself cry."

His words, his comfort, broke something within her. She cried silently, in simple shuttering breaths as she clung to him. He did not pull away, letting her weep warm tears into his shoulder until she finally stilled. After a long moment, she finally drew back wiping at her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she murmured again.

"I told you, you don't need to be," he said, and gave her a soft, reassuring smile.

She wiped at her eyes again with her sleeve and cleared her throat, trying to think of something to say to draw the conversation away from her childish behavior. But nothing came to her mind, forcing her to suppress a growl of frustration.

A soft knock broke the silence. Nova was at once grateful and horrified. Now was _not_ a good time. Aveth turned as his hand fell to his sheath in a subtle readiness. It was more habit than fear. After all, he hardly expected Quintillius's men to knock.

"Come," he bid.

"Nova?" called Reina's gentle voice.

The door opened slightly and the young woman poked her head into the room.

Nova paled. Oh Ancestors, no. No, no, no. Don't let her see her now. Not as this red-eyed snot monster. Death would be preferable.

"I just wanted-" Reina began before breaking off as she caught sight of them. Her gaze narrowed as she studied Aveth, then looked to Nova. She gave the warrior an inquiring look.

Nova fought not to grin as she somehow completely understood the unspoken message behind those eyes.

_Are you alright or do I need to __get a shovel__?_

"We're good," Nova assured with a nod.

Reina looked back to Aveth, lips thin as if she didn't quite believe it. She moved into the room, calmly crossing the few steps to Nova and setting a hand on her shoulder. She leaned close to the warrior's ear and whispered, "Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Nova covered the woman's hand with her own and shook her head with a smile. She was filled with the strangest urge to hug her in that moment. Or at the very least wrap her arm around that slender waist and draw her close. Nova blinked. Where had _that_ come from? Alright, she knew exactly where that had come from. She promptly dug a mental hole and buried the ideas in it, beating the dirt down with the imagined shovel for good measure. Had to… focus now. Yes. Right.

Reina said something that Nova's occupied mind could not hold and turned away with those kind eyes and that sweet, soft smile. The click of the door's latch at least reminded Nova to close her blasted mouth.

"You're blushing," Aveth commented with a coy smirk that made her want to kick him straight through the wall.

"I am not!" she scoffed.

He trailed his fingers along her shoulder as he turned away, offering a final pat.

"The centuries are as lonely as you make them," he offered, his smirk unwavering.

Nova did not answer. Instead, she moved to the bed and curled up beneath the covers, pulling the blanket around her tightly. Aveth blew out the candle on their nightstand, plunging them into shadow before climbing into the large bed as well, his back to her. Left in darkness, a voice that she refused to acknowledge whispered to her. She was growing… quite fond of Reina, wasn't she? There was something about her that drew her to the woman. Ancestors, and those tender eyes…. But she had a mission, a duty. She must not get distracted.

Still, there was something else that lingered just below the surface. Reina was not one of the healers, she could not be a candidate. Relief and disappointment clung to her in equal measure, yet she could not say exactly why. The thought prevented sleep from claiming her. It left her in the dreary dark, where she could only remember the soft touch of Reina's calloused hand. It brought a fluttering warmth to her chest that made her close her eyes and bury her head beneath her pillow.

She had a duty. She must not get distracted.

The words repeated endlessly in a vain hope to cement them into her heart. But still… that did not mean she couldn't return here after she'd found her queen. The idea let a weak smile bloom on her sheltered lips.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A Game of Wolf and Sheep

Gray light colored the inn's windows as the sky brightened with the first rays of dawn. It found two figures in one of the rooms already up and running through a series of stretches. Neither Nova nor Aveth had need to speak as they shifted at almost the exact same moment. After a time, they moved on to exercises, their room just large enough to comfortably accommodate the process.

"I'd wager he's at his manor," Aveth huffed out, in the midst of a trial where he was almost laying flat on the ground, face down, and pushing himself up with just his arms as he kept his body rigid, only his toes helping to support his weight.

Nova grunted beside him, working through the same movements, but seeming to do two for every one of his. He tried not to feel outdone. After all, her body did not build muscle as quickly as his, leaving her to always insist she had to work twice as hard as he did.

"I mean, why stay in a fort when you have a blasted manor?" he continued.

"He did insist we show up at the door," Nova managed with a wicked smirk. "But why does he even have a fort?" Seriously, who claimed a _fort_?

"He probably doesn't have enough space to keep his _merchandise_." The word oozed with disdain.

"But moving them there would draw attention, surely!" she protested, sweat beading on her brow as she worked.

"He has the guards on his payroll," Aveth reminded.

"And we don't know which ones they are," she grimaced.

"So even if we take them the ledger..."

"It won't do any good," Nova finished with a huff. "So we're on our own?"

"We've been in tougher spots before," he tried to offer.

"Name three."

"Does you nearly dying when I turned you count?"

Nova grimaced.

"Alright, two more," she quipped through thin lips.

"Anyway," Aveth said, drawing their focus back as he finally finished his set. "The question left is how do we want to do this?"

"It comes down to how many do we kill," Nova stated pragmatically, finishing her set and working to keep her breathing even as she stood and paced.

"Yes," Aveth nodded, ambling aimlessly toward the window.

"Trying to clear the entire house would be difficult," Nova mused.

"Difficult, yes. But it can be done," Aveth replied in a strangely knowing tone.

Nova turned to him with a look that vacillated between a smirk and worry.

"This is either going to be devious, or terrifying," she stated, face settling on a wicked smile.

He offered her a hapless shrug and the barest of smirks. For a time, he stood silently, brow furrowed deep in thought. Nova stopped her pacing and stared at him, the thin set of her lips the only indication of her impatience. At last, Aveth spoke.

"We don't want to simply kill Quintillius. That won't be enough. It would only pave the way for another to take his place and then we'd be right back where we started. Besides, there's a chance whoever it was would hunt us again."

Nova folded her arms and nodded, surmising as much herself. She offered no words as Aveth's voice dropped low. A dark fire smoldered in his eyes the likes of which she'd never seen.

"We need to deal a blow so crippling, they won't be able to stand back up." His eyes turned to her with a cold logic. "We'll need to visit the apothecary."

"Why?" Nova asked, already knowing the answer.

"Because one of us is going to find a way into his manor's kitchens and poison them all."

Silence.

Nova's eyes scrunched in thought as she nodded, more to herself than in agreement.

"It would be effective," she conceded. "But wouldn't the servants be at risk too?"

"Yes," Aveth admitted, lowering his eyes. "I'm afraid that any way we do this will have unjust casualties."

"True," Nova agreed. "But you said 'one of us'. Where will the other be?"

"The other will make their way to Quintillius and kill him. We need to be certain."

"And afterward?"

"We rendezvous, and set the whole blasted place on fire."

"On fire?" she balked, eyes widening.

"On fire," he confirmed. "Then, we keep ourselves cloaked in your invisibility for as long as we can, and retreat to the high wall that surrounds the compound. It only has one exit out the front side. We settle in there and kill anyone who tries to escape. It'll force them into a sort of choke point. The two of us will be able to hold there for a time, provided invisibility doesn't wear out and they don't start shooting arrows from the upper windows. Not that they'd stay too long in a burning house..."

Nova blinked, and blinked again, lips parted silently.

"Aveth?"

"Hm?"

"Remind me to never, _ever_ piss you off," she said. "Also, sometimes, you scare me."

"I've got quite a few frightening things tucked away in here," he smiled, taping his head. "What I lack is any sort of inclination to use them."

Nova made several mental notes, circled them, and lit a beacon next to them for good measure. That was moving a little higher on her list of "things to remember".

"Then… I suppose we have an apothecary to see," she managed.

"Indeed," Aveth agreed.

* * *

Reina took a moment to stretch, loosing a yawn as she did. Rolling her shoulders, she dipped her rag into a bucket of steaming water and returned to scrubbing one of the last tables before picking up the already cleaned chairs, turning them upside down, and settling them atop the table. Footsteps above caught her interest just long enough for her to pause.

Reina glanced up to see Aveth and Nova stride down the stairs and make for the front door. There was a darkness that roiled from them, nearly palpable across her skin. She met Nova's eyes worriedly, brows furrowing. The warrior smiled reassuringly and reached out a hand, squeezing her shoulder gently. Reina grabbed her hand in a surprisingly strong grip. Nova stopped in her tracks, meeting her eyes with a calm confidence.

"It's alright," Nova assured, voice barely above a whisper as she moved her hand up to the woman's cheek.

"Be safe?" Reina pleaded, leaning into the touch. Gods the words sounded foolish. But she had to say them.

Nova's eyes softened with a gentle smile as she gave a single nod like a solemn oath. The warrior turned for the door, trailing after her companion. Dawn's light streamed into the room for a moment, then was cut off as the door shut behind them.

"Reina?" George called from the kitchen.

"Coming," she replied, staring at the door a moment longer before picking up her bucket and walking back into the warm kitchen.

George passed her a small wooden box, tied shut with a worn square of cloth. Reina set down her burden on the table and took the offering, settling the image of the retreating warrior into the back of her mind.

"I made you lunch," George smiled.

Reina eyed him dubiously, lips puckered. She untied the cloth and lifted the lid before closing it quickly.

"My favorite," she said through tight lips. Suspicion shifted to feigned hurt as she assumed a dramatic tone. "You only make it for me to take with when you want something."

"Have I told you you're my favorite daughter?" George grinned unashamedly.

"I'm your _only_ daughter," she countered. "So it could be argued that I'm also your least favorite daughter."

"Only once in a while," George countered with a smirk, pulling her into a one armed hug and placing a kiss on her head.

"What do you need, Dad?" Reina asked, all trace of false hurt and teasing gone from her tone.

"Luke needs the day to look after his dad. Man got himself bit by a slaughterfish down by the river and now he's got a case of Greenspore," George sighed, wincing in sympathy. "Can you run right home after lessons today? I know it's a pain, and I made you miss class yesterday, but..."

Disappointment washed through Reina like an icy rain. She liked to stay and discuss things with Healer Lee. Moreover, it was her day to help clean up after lessons. Reina sighed. Maybe she could go in early tomorrow and do it then.

"I'll figure it out," she nodded.

George beamed.

"Thanks, my sweet girl," he said, placing another kiss on her head.

Reina nodded and couldn't help but smile as she clutched the box to her chest.

"Sure. And thank _you_ for lunch!"

She hurried for the door but stopped short and whirled on her heel before dashing upstairs.

"Huh. Didn't even have to remind her that time," George remarked to himself as she came back downstairs dressed in russet robes and distinctively present boots on her feet. The lunchbox was neatly tucked in the crook of her arm as she bounded again for the door.

"Try not to eat it all before you get there," he called, arms folded leisurely.

She looked back over her shoulder, one hand on the knob.

"I will make no such promises."

* * *

The earthy scent of dried herbs lingered in Nova's nose as they left the apothecary. She glanced to Aveth, who took the time to carefully sequester a trio of magicka potions into a pouch on his belt. She'd made it specially for him, with padded compartments for each vial that prevented them from clinking together incessantly and driving her mad on long roads. But, really, it had been out of the goodness of her heart. Just for him. Honest.

He moved to the second pouch and tucked away another trio of potions, these a pale, unassuming gray. One was for their purpose; the second was in case of fumbling fingers; and the third, as Aveth assured her, was to placate the Ancestors that he wasn't being overly confident. Nova pretended the words made sense and nodded, silently reminding herself they were _his_ ancestors and didn't have to make sense to her standards.

She passed him three, very small, white bottles.

"Invisibility?" he wondered aloud, taking the offered items and tucking them into the third and last pouch with his thanks.

"For when we separate," she said. "Although we're going to have to raid a bandit fort soon," she joked. "I'm so poor now that moths fly out of my coinpurse when I open it."

Aveth's deep chuckle drifted between them. As they walked, he removed the pouch of magicka potions from his belt, checked the fastenings, and passed it to Nova.

"You'll need these," he said gently.

She nodded, resigning herself to what she was sure would be another day of feeling like she'd been hit with a warhammer. The sickness was fine, but Ancestors, that gnawing emptiness… She took a deep breath and set the thought aside. It would be easy enough to remedy come nightfall. No use in worrying now. Her mind rather unhelpfully lifted a hand and told her she should have fed from Reina. It would have been a lovely excuse to set _both_ hands against her freckled cheeks, or even better yet, she could simply lean in and-. Nova leapt on that thought and stomped it down with her boots until it was crushed into a crater, then dropped a rock atop it for good measure. There were few things that a good craterizing couldn't solve. She smirked to herself, ignoring her own scarlet cheeks and the fact that craterizing probably wasn't a word.

Aveth turned to her, the grim severity in his ruby eyes bringing her back to focus at once.

"Once we begin, there is no turning back," he said softly.

Nova offered him a simple, soft smile.

"I've got your back."

* * *

The rooftop across from Quintillius's manor was cast in shadow, affording the two warriors a somewhat sequestered vantage point. Nova stared with a frown. Manor was the proper term. It stood at the edge of the expanded section of city, sequestered on a small rise with other, similarly fine estates grouped nearby. The house itself boasted two stories and took up three times the space that most of the wealthy homes she'd seen in her time. A large, neatly trimmed lawn of seemingly wild grass and a garden surrounded it on all sides, ringed by a thick wall twice her height. The gray bulwark boasted only one entry point, surely meant to aid the defenders were they attacked from the outside. It was almost a shame that the threat would come from within this day, and their defense would prove their demise. She almost pitied them. But Aveth had shown her the ledger. Nearly a hundred names. Nearly a hundred people torn from their families. Spirits, there could have _been_ families trapped in there. All for the sake of "good business". Quintillius and his people within were monsters. It was a discredit to their victims to afford them pity.

"We walk the kitchens together. Then… I need you to return to the cells and free the prisoners. There was a key to the cells by the lower doorway."

Nova opened her mouth, hesitated, and shut it again. She hadn't noticed that. Still, she took the amendment to the plan in stride.

"There's no guarantee whoever's in there isn't some scoundrel who crossed him," Nova cautioned. "But I understand."

"Thank you," Aveth replied solemnly, clasping her shoulder briefly.

"While you're down there, I'll set the eastern wall of the house alight. It's on the opposite end of the house, so you should be safe. Once you get out, you do the same wherever you are," he directed.

She nodded, but did not bother to hide her grimace. "See, here's my question," Nova protested. "How in the Ancestors' names am I supposed to set a house on fire? Seriously. You know outside of illusion magic, I can barely light a candle."

Aveth's smile widened. "And that's all you're going to need." When she eyed him skeptically, he produced a small brown bottle from who-knew-where. "Whatever you do, do _not_ let this touch your skin."

Nova paled, but nodded, accepting the bottle and doing her best to tie it to her belt securely.

"And you?"

He pulled another bottle from the same ethereal place and tucked it away again.

"But if all else fails, Quintillius was quite a fan of wine. He even kept a supply of it in his kitchen for his little lackeys." Aveth smirked. He paused expectantly, clearly waiting for something.

Nova simply blinked. Did he? Was he? She'd been too busy being revolted by the man to notice. Vile, slimy, sleazy, skeever-for-a-mother, pile of filth. Wait a moment. Nova's mind backpedaled in its tracks. Wine? Lots of wine? Oh. Oh, this was going to be epic. So there was a use for the vile-tasting stuff after all.

"I get it!" she triumphed.

Aveth's smile faltered. "It's funny because wine doesn't really burn like people say…. And it's more assumed of… other alcohols…"

Nova's mouth puckered. Um, sure. She'd reached that conclusion… No one had to know otherwise. She cleared her throat and changed the subject.

"So you're going after Quintillius?" It wasn't necessary, but she had to ask.

"Yes." The low promise growled from his throat with dire portent.

Nova did not acknowledge, a burning unease in her stomach. There were no more words to say, nothing more to plan, thus the two simply sat silently for a moment. Nova grimaced and bit her lip as she took a deep breath. This task was… daunting, her mind admitted. She took another breath, and forced herself to remember the sound of rain on the sea. She let it fill her, gaining in strength before she brought to memory the scent of the shore and sound of gentle waves as she stood back in her homeland. Nova took in another breath and let it flow from her in a slow exhale. She could do this.

Aveth set his hand on Nova's shoulder and they began.

* * *

Nova's magic cloaked them as they moved through the kitchens, careful to avoid the milling staff. Once more grateful that being under the same invisibility spell let them see one another, Nova fell back as Aveth signaled her, taking the lead himself instead.

Aveth hardly dared to breathe as he crept through the kitchen. It had narrow counters that ran down both of its long walls and a central table between them that was cluttered with an array of chopped vegetables and kneaded dough. At the far end was a massive hearth, over which an equally large cauldron bubbled. Aveth pursed his lips. Today's breakfast: a light and warm soup about to be seasoned with "unpleasant". The dunmer fought the urge to roll his eyes. Alright, his recent mental commentary was getting out of hand. He crept around a worker as she whisked a tray of rolls away, steering his path toward the unoccupied cauldron. The creamy, light orange liquid bubbled merrily, giving off a subtle, yet luscious aroma.

It was almost a shame to ruin it.

But Aveth pulled the bottle from his side none the less and dumped the contents in, then did the same with a second bottle. He was silently relieved that heat would have no effect on the poison, and equally grateful that he'd bought three of the things for good measure. Though from his understanding of the dosage needed, even with the massive amount of soup, this was-if one could pardon the pun-overkill.

Aveth slipped back toward Nova, who was returning the stopper to her own bottle of poison, though he couldn't see her target for a large bag of potatoes. She nodded to him once, then they retreated into a pantry. Nova pulled a magicka potion from her pouch and drained the contents in one gulp, then recast the invisibility spell. Already a hollow ache gnawed at her from within as the drain of keeping both their steps muffled, and their forms veiled thus far took its toll.

Aveth caught her arm briefly, concern in his eyes. She offered a weary smile and patted his hand. He pursed his lips, but had to cast aside his worry, pointedly reminding himself that time was now of the essence.

Nova turned and lead them back through the kitchens, leaving him no choice but to follow. Her mind briefly noted a room opposite the hearth that held rows of shoddy tables and chairs, as well as a trickle of equally shoddily-clad warriors wandering in from an unseen door. A servant was carrying an impressive stack of bowls between them. She had no more time to stare as she pushed through the kitchen into what she assumed was Quintillius's dining room.

A long table dominated the room, polished so highly, they could see the reflections of the servants as they set out a neat arrangement of dishes. They pushed past it and out into the hall. Aveth reached up and clasped her shoulder. She returned the gesture as they parted ways.

* * *

Nova whirled around a corner into a room and pressed herself flat against the wall just between two ornate shelves displaying polished silver plates. She didn't need to catch a glimpse of her very visible eyes in her reflection to know they were red. Her fingers fumbled for her pouch and pulled out her second potion. It only _mostly_ tasted like old.

Her head throbbed and left her feeling like the room was spinning. It abated just enough for a thought to amble past her. She should probably have bought some invisibility potions for herself. That would have been great. Poverty inducing, but great. She waved goodbye as the thought wandered away. It was replaced by her efforts to keep from vomiting. Stupid Aveth sending her on a stupid stealth mission. She'd rather just smash everything until she got what she wanted. In fact, it was a miracle she hadn't been discovered yet. Because really, all she wanted to do was curl up with a lovely cup of tea. Preferably right next to Reina. In fact, forget the tea. Maybe Reina'd just let her curl up and lay her aching head on her lap.

A coy smirk drifted across Nova's worn face. At precisely that moment, a burly man with greasy hair and a brigand's armor strode into the room and stopped short as he caught sight of her.

Well. Ancestors throw her from the boat and paddle back to run her over with it.

"Hello," she smiled, waving sheepishly.

His mouth was forming a tirade of swears as she surged forward, hand cloaked in green magic, and grabbed his throat. With a strangled sound, his eyes rolled back slightly before he crumpled to the ground. Nova did not break contact, despite the fact that he looked as if he hadn't heard of the concept of bathing and his rancid stench battered against her. It didn't matter. The gnawing void within her was far more pressing, and his magic would quell it deliciously. Nova smiled and stood, leaving his sleeping form where it was as she cast her spell again, vanishing as if she'd never been.

* * *

Aveth trailed behind a servant, walking in time with her footsteps to hide the sound of his own. In the back of his mind was a steady count that told him his potion was due to wear off far sooner than he'd like. He glanced down to the subtle shimmer on his skin that let him know the effects were still active. Much like Nova's spell, when the shimmer was gone, it meant he would be visible again.

He looked back to the servant, or rather, her back. She turned a corner and he caught a glimpse of the decanter of wine she carried on a silver tray. A smirk crossed the dunmer's lips. When in doubt, follow the wine. Not that he didn't know the way, but she was his unknowing distraction. Aveth couldn't hide his grin. Why, no good sir with the lack of teeth and obnoxiously large battle ax, you didn't hear anything strange. It was just the lovely lady here. Yes, stare at her backside and don't notice the shimmer just passing you. Good boy. Keep the door held open as you stare. Good. Now go down to the kitchen and get a cookie. Better yet, some soup. He defiantly resisted the urge to insist it was to die for, then thought it anyway.

The woman carrying the tray paused as they passed an open doorway and a voice called out to her. They spoke about pointless things as Aveth stepped to the side of the hall near a pedestal holding the stone carving of a bear. He watched the shimmer begin to fade from his skin and grimaced before downing the next alabaster vial. Maybe he should learn spells like Nova. Ancestor's knew they came in handy. But…

Almost unbidden came the memory of heavy shackles that weighed down his every movement until all he could do was lay helpless on a cold, stone floor. Then came the horrid, gnawing, aching emptiness that devoured him from within and held him captive with greater entirety than his cell ever could. It had been a choice thrust upon him, the pain a constant reminder of all he had endured, all that had been inflicted. He had never let himself become that drained again. Not once since being freed. Using magic would surely force him to feel that once more. No. Nova could stand it because Nova was Nova. He, on the other hand, had purged every thought of magic from his mind, down to the basest of healing.

The servant continued on down the hall and he shook away the cloying tide of memory and thought, letting himself slip back into the task at hand. He followed with all the substance of her shadow.

She made her way to a familiar door and knocked, entering after a moment. Aveth waited silently as a subtle series of shouts sounded from downstairs, right in line with his mental counting. So, breakfast was going well. The servant reappeared and shut the door behind her in the empty hall. There were no guards in the passage, but Aveth surmised that it simply meant there were going to be far too many in the room beyond. He steeled himself and approached the door, turning the knob with painstaking care as he pushed it open slowly. He would have preferred to leave it open, letting those inside think it simply hadn't latched properly, but heavy footsteps in the hall behind him pushed him into the room and he shut the door behind lest someone catch sight of what he was about to do.

Aveth stopped in his tracks, unseen mouth parted. Whatever he had expected, it was not the lone man standing with his back to the door.

"Ah, excellent!" he preened in his elegant, fur trimmed, blue garb. His blond hair caught the sunlight as he turned around, a crystalline goblet of wine in his hand. "And here I was afraid I'd run out of wine before finding you."

Aveth's blood ran cold. Something was wrong. Very wrong. It was not the fact that this was not the man he'd expected, nor that this man seemed to know he was there despite being invisible. No. It was the golden eyes within the pale features.

The eyes weren't right. And Aveth, more than most, paid attention to people's eyes.

"It seems you've saved me the trouble of searching," he tipped his glass in almost a shrug. The room gleaned a predatory air as the blond man smiled and took a sip of the wine. Aveth crept around to the side, steps muffled in the thick carpet.

"From your scent, I'd wager you're the male," the man remarked, as if commenting on good weather. "Though do feel free to tell me if I'm wrong." He swirled the wine in his glass absently.

Aveth reversed directions and tried approaching from the opposite side.

"You do realize I can hear you, yes?" the man asked, taking another savoring sip. He drummed two fingers on the glass before launching the contents, then himself, at the intruder.

Aveth cast himself aside into a roll before surging up to his feet again. In an instant, the man was upon him, savage claws adorning his hands as he snarled, baring pearlescent fangs.

Aveth was faster.

The blond man made a strangled sound, a gurgling that sputtered in his throat. His eyes blinked in confusion as he scrabbled at his throat. But the silvery dagger, carried by Aveth's momentum as he'd stood, was already embedded up through his lower jaw with a river of blood pulsing from it.

The invisibility spell had shattered, unable to acclimate to such rapid movements as he'd struck. It bled from his skin like it was washed away by the rain. Thus, the golden-eyed man found himself staring into the dunmer's grim gaze before the knife was pulled free and he collapsed to the ground.

Aveth's heart hammered in a thunderous chorus as he glared down at the twitching man while the life faded from his eyes. He moved back across the room, wiping the blood from his arms in a voluminous curtain. Curse it all. He should have kept the man alive! At least long enough to find out where Quintillius's miserable hide was cowering! He took a moment and scoured the desk for any clues. After the count of ten slow breaths, he gave up the fruitless task. With a snarl, he pulled out the last potion and drank it, sweeping from the room on silent steps.

* * *

Nova pushed open the library door, one hand on her sword hilt. Not that she expected this pack of humanity's dregs to read. Old habits died hard.

She turned toward the shelf that concealed the passage down to the cells and jumped in surprise. The air shimmered, and seemingly from nothing, the form of the silent butler materialized. The finely dressed man held a finger to his lips and Nova understood she was being urged to silence.

"I don't want to hurt you," Nova insisted in a hushed tone. "I'm only here for Ironheel."

The butler rolled his eyes at her outburst and nodded several times. With a knowing smirk upon his face, he held up a hand and rubbed the tips of his fingers together.

Nova watched the gesture, not grasping the meaning behind it.

The butler tried again, this time fishing a coin from his pocket and holding it up.

Now it was Nova's turn to roll her eyes.

"Of course," she grumbled. "But why exactly should I?"

The only response was a knowing, and disturbingly devious smile.

She toyed with the idea of simply bashing him over the head, but curiosity got the better of her. Still, she had to roll her eyes again as she tossed the man a small pouch of coins that she had absolutely not looted off of a sleeping brigand to replenish her gold. Nooo. But it was alright. She'd acquired three more. Seriously, who just left pouches of gold sitting around?

The silent man caught the small bag happily and strode to the bookshelf, opening the hidden passage to reveal a slumped figure. He squatted beside the shadow and shook it gently.

Nova moved closer, staring harder. As her eyes began to pick apart the gloom, the figure rose with the butler's help and stumbled into the light.

"Ironheel," Nova breathed reflexively. She looked back and forth between the men before her eyes settled on the butler. "But… how-"

The butler only shook his head with that same smile etched on his features. He made a shooing gesture to the both of them.

"I need to see if there's anyone else down there," the warrior insisted.

The man shook his head with a dismissive wave.

"No one..." a voice rasped.

Nova's eyes flicked to Ironheel as she draped his arm around her shoulders.

"No one… but me," he managed through the mat of blood coating the right side of his bruised, blotched face. In fact, the entire half of his face was swollen so dramatically, he appeared to not have an eye. She fervently hoped he still did.

Shouts of hysteria rose in the distance, among them a repeated word: fire.

"You need to get out," Nova offered.

The butler shot her a patronizing look, then shooed her again.

* * *

The grassy yard around the house was filled with smoke as angry orange flames raged across one side of the building. Above, a mat of gray clouds blotted out the sun, adding to the murky haze. Nova struggled to keep Ironheel supported as she looked back. Her fire at the manor's opposite end had yet to gain enough volume to be noticed, though it spewed black, roiling plumes. Aveth materialized from the murk, one hand held to his mouth as he coughed. He didn't say a word, and barely met her eyes as he moved to help support Ironheel as well. Nova stared for a moment longer. Why were there no teams with buckets fighting this monster they had created?

Almost as if in response, a line of figures gained shape in the gloom. She was about to curse herself before a familiar face formed. The silent butler strode to her, a line of servants in his wake, their uniforms grayed with smoke. They looked strangely calm, like the day's events were just another morning, and passed by the warriors with hardly a glance. The butler lingered and withdrew a key from his pocket. He tapped it to his lips, then opened his mouth to reveal his lack of a tongue. A satisfied, vengeful grin oozed across his features as he pressed the key into Aveth's hand and followed the others away from the conflagration. In that moment, Aveth could have sworn he heard a pounding on the front door. He stared for half a breath. The door required a key from within? But Aveth spared no more time to wonder, and shifted Ironheel's weight as he and Nova began to retreat back toward the perimeter wall's only exit.

Shattering glass and hoarse shouts met their ears as they made it halfway across the yard. After a trio of heartbeats, shoddily armored figures emerged from the gloom.

"Go," Aveth said calmly, drawing his sword and dagger as he shifted Ironheel's weight back entirely to Nova and turned.

Nova nodded, and steered the limping man away.

Aveth pulled in a breath and coughed as the smoke stung his throat. They would not get past him. They _must_ not get past him. His grip tightened on the hilts of his weapons. Five men with dirty, scarred faces paused when they saw him, expressions scrunched in a mixture of disdain and confusion. The hesitation cost the closest man his life. Aveth swung his sword, cutting through the man's throat before anyone could react. As the sputtering man crumpled to the ground clutching the wound, the rest of Quintillius's band swarmed into action, drawing a mixture of swords and axes as they charged.

Aveth sidestepped to his left and lashed out with his dagger, cutting a wicked gash across the weapon hand of a greasy, blond-haired man in a horned helmet. The man screamed and dropped his weapon on reflex. Aveth gave him no time to recover as he thrust his dagger up through the man's lower jaw in a disturbingly familiar strike. Blood erupted from the wound as he yanked the weapon free. A silver streak barreled down at him. He spun and lifted his blades on instinct, blocking a two-handed sword's strike with a resounding clang. A second man lunged forward in an instant, stabbing for the dunmer's torso. With no chance to block it, Aveth dashed back and to the side.

Only one of the men followed, the other two waiting warily. Aveth allowed himself a dark smile. It seemed they didn't quite understand the advantage of numbers and how to use it in a fight. Well wasn't he just so terribly sad. Really.

The dunmer's sword was a silver streak in the haze. The advancing man crumpled, blood washing from him in crimson waves. Aveth turned his grim smile to the remaining men. They barely had time to stumble back before they joined the others on the ground.

He spun on his heel instantly, sprinting to catch up to Nova. He found her poised at the gate, her sword drawn at the ready. A dim part of his mind noted Ironheel sequestered against the outside edge of the wall some ways off and nodded. He would be safe enough there.

Simply because none of these monsters were getting past him.

"Aveth?" Nova said, voice tight with unease.

"Hm?" he responded, stepping even with her as he readied himself.

"After this, one of us is taking up archery," she insisted.

A throaty chuckle resonated from him.

"We tried that," he reminded. "Neither of us could hit the broad side of a barn."

"What if I enchanted arrows that exploded?" she countered.

"Then you might as well just fire magic for that amount of effort."

"Not necessarily," she refuted, silently glad to have a point to argue.

Aveth only shot her a wry smile and took a step forward. The simple movement spoke volumes. It was time to focus. Nova took a breath and let it out slowly with a nod, drawing even with him.

More shattering glass met their ears along with a strident chorus of voices. Words warbled and warred, the specifics lost in the distance, but the meaning behind them clear. They could not stop the ravenous flames. Indeed, it seemed they'd stopped trying entirely, if they'd ever begun at all. Nova smirked ruefully. Well that hadn't taken long.

Silhouettes sprinted from the haze, gaining form and clarity. Nova glared at the bones fashioned to their armor. These fools weren't even pretending not to be bandits. The lack of effort bothered her more than it should have. She dashed forward, pale sword lancing for the man in the lead. He dodged easily, but he wasn't her target. The woman behind him gaped at the sword that plunged through the skull painted on her black robes, the blade shattering her sternum before piercing through her spine. She crumpled in wide-eyed shock. Nova wrenched her sword free with a measure of pride at the metal which not even severing bone could warp.

A headless body thudded to the ground beside her. From the corner of her eye, Aveth's sword cut a deadly dance between two more opponents. She was… slightly jealous. But then again, what did he have, three, four centuries more practice than her? It was just further incentive to keep training. The errant though vanished from her mind as she rushed her next opponent.

She and Aveth continued in a seemingly endless cycle of maddening waiting and combat. Nova had to wonder where the town guard were, or at least the citizenry. The estate might be isolated, but that hardly meant "hey everyone, ignore the great big fire over there". Then again, maybe that had been why the butler had winked at her and waggled his fingers. Or he was just odd. Probably that one.

The manor was engulfed now, the fire spreading faster than Nova would have ever believed possible. Spirits, she was lucky it hadn't trapped her in there… Vibrant, angry flames poured from the shattered windows and gaping holes where the elegant wooden walls had already been consumed. No more figures emerged from the smoke, nor the raging ruins. Nova wondered, just briefly, if the fact wasn't condemning for the two of them. What a way to die. Those people had been monsters, doubtless, but embracing such a means… Did it not mark _them_ as villains themselves? All at once, Nova was homesick. She yearned for the island, to return to a place where such questions would not plague her. They had an enemy there, to be certain, but dealing with it was as simple as swinging her sword.

Aveth's hand on her armored shoulder broke her reverie. She realized, belatedly, that he was speaking to her.

"What?" she asked, blinking.

"We should go," he repeated simply.

They turned away, making for where Nova had left Ironheel. The man was still sitting against the outside of the massive wall, his head lolled to the side. Aveth knelt beside him and held a hand in front of the man's mouth, just to ensure he was still breathing.

"Ain't dead yet," came the gruff grumble, though the words slurred.

"Good," Nova praised. "I'd hate to have carried your backside out of there for nothing."

Aveth shot her a glare, but a rasping laugh cut him off.

"Me too," Ironheel managed to agree.

"We'll get you to the temple," Aveth promised.

"No!" the man's head snapped up, his only visible eye going wide. "No temples!"

"Don't be such a child," Nova chided, a hand on her hip. "You're going."

"Look lady," he spat back. "Oblivion knows it's a long story, but I can't go back there and I ain't doin' it." He stared her down with all the strength he could muster.

Nova briefly wondered if he'd managed to anger the old healer lady too, the thought bringing a private smile to her lips and a phantom pain to her ear. That was not an enviable fate.

"Alright," Aveth agreed, if only to calm him. "No temples." That begged the question of where exactly they took him from here. The dunmer sighed, supposing that the inn was as good a place as any, and the man would have to manage with whatever healing potions they could scrounge. When he spoke, he addressed Nova. "We'll take him to the inn then."

She offered a simple nod.

Aveth bent and helped Ironheel to his feet, supporting his weight. They took all of three steps before the battered man's body shuddered and refused to hold him up any longer. Aveth stooped without hesitation, hefting the man onto his back and continuing their slow trek down the empty street.

"Huh," Ironheel huffed in almost a laugh.

"What's funny?" Nova asked, resisting the urge to ask if it was him being carried like a sack of potatoes.

"Last time we spoke, I said I never wanted to see your miserable faces again," he coughed in response. "Guessing I owe you an apology."

"A man caged says many things, particularly one who believes he is already dead," Aveth said softly.

Only silence followed the trio as the sun burned brighter, illuminating the smoking ruins in their wake.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The Rising Tide

The inn's common room was warm, the soft chatter from a handful of patrons lingering in the air. Nova sat beside Aveth at a table clutching a mug in her hands. As her gaze wandered over the sparse occupants with habitual vigilance, she took a sip of her tea. She savored the earthy flavor, laced with just a hint of something floral. Reina had recommended it the other night as a somewhat more grounding substitute for alcohol, and Nova found she had to agree. She swirled the steaming liquid in her mug, thoughts lingering on the woman. It would be nice to talk to her right now. But George said she would be gone for a time. Something about a temple or some such place? Nova hadn't really been paying attention, she just remembered the crushing disappointment. But perhaps it was for the best, the warrior reflected. Even after taking the time to clean the blood and grime from her armor, she was fairly sure she still smelled like a forge.

Above them, in a separate room from their own, Ironheel rested as comfortably as his condition allowed. The meager potions Aveth had been able to procure for him worked with an almost painful lethargy. But at the very least, the man's swelling had gone down enough for his second eye to become… slightly visible.

Nova took another sip of her tea. Almost as if by unspoken cue, Aveth stood and walked casually to the stairs once more, turning for the wounded man's room. Last time had come with the excuse of making sure Ironheel had water. Now Aveth didn't bother. She gave a small, private smirk. That made four trips. Four in the span of two cups of tea. She almost felt bad for Ironheel. That man would be lucky to get a heartbeat of sleep with such a mothering hen in his shadow. But then again… maybe it was just something that Aveth wished someone had bothered to do for him. The thought sobered her and stole the smile from her face.

Aveth returned shortly, offering no comment. She reached over and wordlessly gripped his forearm. He looked over to her, the corner of his mouth lifting almost sheepishly.

Nova returned her hand to her teacup as the door opened and a swell of laughter washed into the room. A quintet of men entered, jubilant smiles plastered on their faces. The largest of them carried a hefty, wood frame pack, his massive muscles straining under its weight.

"George!" called the man in the lead, cupping a hand to his full, black beard.

The call was echoed by the likewise black haired teen beside him.

George stuck his head out the kitchen door, brow furrowed. As he laid eyes on the party however, a great grin gained purchase across his grizzled features.

"Wulf, you son of a hoarker! How in the Gods' names are you?" he bellowed, rushing around the counter and throwing his arms wide. They embraced with an exchange of hardy slaps to the back.

"Damn good!" the other man triumphed. "And you'll never guess why!"

George flashed a dastardly grin.

"You finally grew a-"

"No!" Wulf roared quickly with a lashing strike to the innkeeper's shoulder. "My lad here got his first kill! Biggest elk you ever did see! And he took it down himself!"

George's mouth formed a silent '_o_' at the news before beaming.. He looked to the youth whose shoulders were hunched at the attention, but whose smile rivaled the innkeeper's.

"I… got lucky," he muttered.

"Lucky nothing!" Wulf refuted.

"Great job!" George praised, offering the lad a clap on the shoulder.

Wulf echoed the gesture.

"Now! That brute was so big, my lads and I won't be able to eat the lot of it before it turns rank." Wulf said, pointing a thumb toward the men behind him. "So I thought I'd throw some of it your way. You know, In place of a certain debt I owe you."

"In place of your considerable tab, you mean," George smirked, raising an eyebrow. Still, he walked around to the man carrying the hefty sack and peered within.

"Well I'll be an orc's uncle," the innkeeper muttered, sounding pleased.

"We even cut it into strips for you," Wulf continued. "If that ain't worth something, I don't know what is."

"Wait," George muttered. "You did something considerate for another person?"

The innkeeper received another strike on his shoulder.

"Shut it," the hunter grumbled.

"This is perfect, Wulf," George said, lifting the pack free before he paused. "But what say you, lad? This is your kill. You alright with this?"

The youth looked startled to be asked, then calmed.

"Oh... Yes. That's not even half of him. We have plenty. And if it gets Da square with you, it's great by me."

"Then I'll cook it up this very night! We'll have venison stew by the bucket! Come by for a bowl, on the house, all of you!" George insisted, slinging the massive pack over one shoulder.

"It's a deal," Wulf nodded, clasping George's shoulder as he passed. His ensemble filtered out behind him until the inn was quiet once more.

"Got enough meat there, George?" Nova quipped, unable to resist.

"Oh you don't even know," he refuted. "We'll be eating venison for days."

"Not after I get done with it," Aveth challenged, folding his arms.

"We'll see about that," George said, eyes narrowing as his smirk only widened.

Aveth's responded with a raised eyebrow and a defiant grin.

The innkeeper loosed a chuckle.

"Don't fret then. I've got all the ingredients I need, and with the work they've done? It won't take me but a moment to have it all cut up and get the stew to boil." He took three steps toward the kitchen before he stopped short and swore. "Blast it all! And I told Reina to hurry back and help tonight."

Nova perked. Reina?

"I'll let her know," she said, rising from her chair before she was aware the words left her mouth.

"Would you?" George sighed. "Thank you. I appreciate it. There'll be warm rolls waiting for you when you get back."

"Well then I'd better hurry," Nova grinned, pretending not to see the smirk that Aveth was directing her way. One of these days she was going to feed him his own boots.

* * *

Reina hurried out of the temple, smacking into something solid as she went. No match for the immovable object, she stumbled backwards only to be caught by a strong arm around her waist.

"You are always in a hurry," Nova smirked, helping to right her and trying without success not to notice the feel of her arm around that lovely waist before retracting her limb.

Reina pushed the stray hairs from her face.

"I… sorry!" she winced.

"Are you alright?" Nova asked, brushing aside the apology with a smile.

"Me? _I_ crashed into _you_!" Reina protested.

"Armor," Nova pointed out, tapping her dark chest plate.

"Oh..." Reina murmured, nodding to herself. "But still."

"It's fine," Nova assured. She looked from the young woman to the setting sun. "Are you on your way back to the inn?"

"Yes, I'm supposed to help Dad with the dinner tonight since Luke can't." Reina hesitated a moment, biting her lip as she stared first at the warrior, then the inn's general direction. "I'll... see you there, excuse me!"

Nova caught her delicate wrist. Reina turned back to her, eyes wide in puzzlement.

"First," Nova chuckled. "Your father received a large amount of meat from hunters in payment of a tab. He plans to serve that and says you don't need to hurry back."

A smile bloomed on Reina's face at the words.

"Second," Nova continued, "You won't get very far without your shoes."

Reina's eyes flashed down to her bare feet before an exasperated groan left her.

"Not again!"

She vanished into the temple once more. Nova moved to stand with her back to the building's wall as she waited. Time eked by, until Nova was sure either the shoes were in another plane of existence or Reina was lost. Or dead. Probably dead. Definitely dead. Nova needed to find the threat and-

She whirled through the doorway, left hand on her scabbard. Yet the tension in her shoulders melted away when she saw the innkeeper's daughter beside Healer Lee, chatting with a wide smile on her face. The warrior scoffed at herself and fell back against the shadowed wall. She stood attentively as the two spoke, the words of little concern to her. One hand rested casually on her sword, the other at her side, while her eyes scanned the room. Old habits she refused to break.

The windows lost the last lingering light of the day before Reina turned around. She made it two steps before jumping in surprise.

"Nova! You didn't have to wait!" she fretted.

"It's dangerous for a lady to walk the streets at night by herself," the warrior replied factually. "I'll accompany you."

Reina opened her mouth, trying to form a response.

"I… well... thank you. But this city isn't like that," she protested.

"Every city is like that," Nova returned grimly, pulling open the door. "You simply have to look."

"You must have seen a lot of places then," Reina mused, following her out into the street.

"More than you can imagine," Nova returned, the corner of her lip lifting in a mixture of scorn and wry humor.

"Really?" Reina asked eagerly. "Where was the prettiest place? Oh, no. Where's the wickedest? Oh! What about the most fun?"

Nova turned to her and raised an eyebrow as they walked.

"Which would you like answered first?" she quipped dryly.

"In order, please," Reina smiled happily.

Nova chuckled and shook her head as she cast her eyes skyward.

"Alright then," she shrugged, stifling a sigh. "I suppose the 'prettiest' place, aside from my home, was the Imperial City in Cyrodiil, though I visited it long ago."

"Where _is _your home?" Reina wondered.

Nova opened her mouth to reply, but hesitated.

"Nowhere you've ever heard of," she evaded.

"Aw come on," Reina sighed in disappointment.

Nova grimaced, but relented.

"It's a large island off the northeastern coast of Skyrim."

"Oh! Solstheim!" the other woman said triumphantly.

"No, much farther east than that," Nova corrected. "But to be fair, I doubt one could find it on a map."

"Oh, I'm so jealous!" Reina replied. When the warrior turned to her with an inquiring gaze, she continued. "I've always dreamed about seeing the ocean! What's it like? Is it warm? Cold? Do you see many fish? How blue is it really?"

Nova blinked at the onslaught.

"Um… it's… the ocean."

Reina slapped her arm playfully, regretting the action as she collided with the woman's armor.

"Ow," she winced before launching a protest. "That doesn't answer anything!"

"Maybe you should ask one question at a time."

"Impossible," the woman grinned.

"I noticed," Nova returned, not bothering to hide the smirk on her lips.

They fell into companionable silence, passing a lit brazier on a street corner and continuing onward toward the inn.

"So it's just you and Mister Aveth?" Reina asked.

"You don't have to address him formally, but yes."

"That must be fun," the woman continued flashing a coy smirk, though something lingered behind the look.

Nova grimaced as if a three day old fish were shoved under her nose.

"It's not like that," she refuted.

"So he has someone back home?" she asked, unable to fight the teasing grin that spread across her face.

"No, but-"

"So _you_ have someone back home."

"Well… erm… no, I-"

"So-"

"Reina!" Nova interrupted sharply. She stared at the woman pointedly until Reina held up her hands in a gesture of surrender.

"You're way too easy to tease," Reina giggled. "And look at you blush!"

"I'm not blushing, I'm enraged," Nova deadpanned.

"Hm, don't think so."

Nova deflated slightly. Did everyone have a magical power to read her emotions? Not. Fair.

"Oh look!" Nova declared in an overly loud voice as they reached the inn. "We're here! You should go in and say hello to your father."

Reina laughed heartily and threw her arms around Nova.

"Thanks for walking me home," she said, then grinned deviously. "It was fun!"

Nova blinked.

"Sure?" The word was long, drawn out with an unerring tone of confusion, but her arms wrapped around the flaxen-haired woman nonetheless. She was probably holding Reina too tightly… But it felt… nice. More than nice. And Reina didn't seem to mind at all.

At length, the innkeeper's daughter pulled back and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears, a sweet smile on her face. "I'll see you inside," she promised softly before vanishing into the common room. Nova's stomach instantaneously felt like she'd eaten a swarm of butterflies. She stood out in the night a moment longer, blinking.

"I did nothing to warrant a hug," the warrior posed to the empty air. This place must have strange customs, she mused. Yes… that was it. Nova nodded several times and hurried for her room, cheeks burning.

* * *

A knock sounded on her door. It was far too soft for Aveth, and what's more, Nova doubted he would bother.

"Come," she bid.

Reina stepped into the room, shutting the door behind herself. In her hand was a small basket with a cloth draped over it. The warrior's heart skipped a beat, then stumbled to catch up with itself.

"Dad said he owed you rolls," she said simply, staring at Nova with her warm, green eyes.

She'd changed clothes, Nova noted almost absently. Gone was the burnt orange robe, replaced by her long, brown skirt and tan top with its frilled sleeves. She simply shrugged, figuring the woman wore whatever was comfortable when she wasn't working. Besides, she looked exquisite in anything. Nova paused, and almost chastised her mind for the thought, but that one… that one deserved to be thought. Several times. Along with… oh, no, she was staring wasn't she?

"Thank you," Nova blurted with a forced laugh. "I hadn't actually planned on holding him to that." She accepted the rolls regardless and turned to set them on the dresser beside her armor, which was in the process of being cleaned beyond "probably fine" and "not _as_ smelly" toward "actually clean".

Reina's gasp had her rounding at once, hand going for her sword at her hip... which was currently leaning against the wall, waiting its turn to be tended.

"What?" Nova demanded, scanning the room.

"Your arm!" Reina winced, rushing forward and taking the warrior's left elbow in hand. She lifted it tenderly, wincing anew at the line of raw, red skin cutting across the back of Nova's upper arm.

Nova twisted, barely managing to catch a glimpse before a stinging pain shot up her arm.

"Spirits!" she grimaced. "How in the Ancestors' names did I manage that?"

"It looks like a burn," Reina commented, fishing a hand into her skirt pocket before pulling out a tiny jar. She snapped open the lid and dipped her finger inside among what looked like yellowy wax. "Do you have a strip of cloth?" she asked.

Nova immediately offered the one she'd been using to tend her armor.

"A _clean_ one!" Reina insisted, the edge of a rebuke in her tone.

Nova flashed her a devious smirk and opened a drawer to retrieve the desired item, passing it over.

Reina simply rolled her eyes in response, fighting down a rueful smile. She applied the thick salve with a remarkably delicate hand as the smell of lavender and a handful of other, less easily defined scents filled the room. The back of her mind prickled with a faint thought as she worked. It almost felt like she'd done this before... many times, actually. A vague image flitted behind her eyes. White stone surrounded them, cold air biting at her. Yet she'd ignored it then, her focus fixed on a trio of gashes clawed down Nova's arm. No words, just an ache in her chest for the sight. Reina blinked and mentally shook away her daydreaming. She scoffed at herself, turning her attention back to the pale salve as she lifted the cloth to wrap around it.

"Don't worry, this stuff's pretty good. I can attest to that, and between Dad and me in the kitchen? I like to keep it on hand."

Nova watched her work with rapt attention. Indeed, she wondered how the other woman couldn't hear her heartbeat. To Nova, it resounded like the thundering drum of a horse's hooves. And she really, really, _really_ wanted to tuck that strand of hair behind Reina's ear. The woman didn't seem to notice as she tied off the bandage and looked up. Or… maybe she _had_. Because she wasn't looking at Nova with confusion, nor did she seem perturbed. No, it was stalwart, steady. Those vibrant eyes staring into her own.

"Are you alright?" Reina whispered, setting a careful hand above the bandage. "It looks like you were in a battle."

But Nova didn't hear the words. Her mind was blank. Instead, she wrapped her mended arm around Reina's waist, pulling her closer. Her other hand came up to rest on the woman's cheek, running her thumb across the soft expanse. Reina issued a contented sigh that nearly sent Nova's absent mind spiraling.

"Thank you," she managed softly, nodding toward the bandage. She felt Reina's arm wrap around her waist in kind and the sensation sent her thunderous heart into a somersault.

"You're cute when you blush," Reina smirked, her voice a low whisper.

The statement struck her like a dragon crash-landing through the roof. Words. She would really like to be able to use words. But right now, all she could think about were those sweet lips and-

Footsteps out in the hall heralded the sharp knock on the door. Nova jumped with a start, releasing Reina and stepping back out of the woman's grasp. Now _that_ was Aveth! He opened the door and offered her an apologetic grimace, stepping inside. George entered on his heels not a heartbeat later.

"There you are," the innkeeper triumphed to his daughter. "Could you help me get things set up?" The smile didn't hide the fact that his narrowed eyes shifted from the warrior, to Reina, and back again.

"Sure," Reina nodded, casting a single glance to Nova before her father ushered her out of the room and they vanished.

Aveth closed the door after them.

Nova glared at him, waves of heat veritably roiling from her. Aveth only stared back calmly.

"George was looking for her," he replied in an almost offhand manner. "And when Reina goes missing, you seem to be his first suspect. Me personally? I'd rather you didn't end up in a stew, so I took the lead."

She wanted to throw him through a wall. Several walls. And then some. But she actually owed him her gratitude, didn't she. Still she folded her arms and huffed out a scoff.

"He has nothing to be suspicious about," she insisted curtly.

Aveth shot her a smirk that told her just how much he believed her, then opened the door again and stepped out into the hall. Nova followed under the pretense of wiping that smug look off his face, but in truth… it was better than standing around and thinking. Specifically about a moment approximately eight breaths ago. She… probably shouldn't have done that. Why had she done that? Hello, Ancestors? She'd like to be struck by lightning now. Smoke. She'd breathed in too much smoke that morning. Yes. That was it.

Aveth offered a jarring slap between her shoulder blades. She snapped from her stupor and stared at him with a wrinkled frown, lips drawn.

"Come on," he insisted, a soft smile on his face. Somehow it was more irksome than his smirk. Still, she followed him into Ironheel's room.

The man was tucked beneath a brown, woolen blanket on the bed. He stirred slightly, then turned his head toward them and blinked thickly for a moment.

"Brought a friend this time?" Ironheel wheezed.

"Thought you might get bored," Aveth quipped.

"The way you lot throw a party? Doubt it," he returned with a rasping chuckle. "I don't think I'll forget that little campfire of yours until my dying day. May every one of those motherless curs burn."

Nova's mouth twitched with a grimace before she glanced away. Surprisingly, even in his state, Ironheel didn't miss it.

"Scum and skeevers, the lot of them. The kind that no one else in their right mind would want to work with. But they came cheap because of it. And whatever 'good business' he might spout, Quintillius loved his money." Ironheel spat before his tone shifted lower and took a dark edge. "The kind of men they were? The world's a right sight better without them. So don't you dare go pitying 'em. You did everyone in town a service."

"Didn't say I pitied them," Nova refuted.

He replied with a dismissive scoff.

There was silence for a moment.

"So," the sigh hissed from the man. "Did you get him?" There was no need to elaborate on who.

This time it was Aveth who looked away with a grimace.

"Quintillius was not there," he snarled bitterly. "It was someone else, and it almost felt like he was expecting us..."

"Blue outfit, gold eyes, smells like a dog, and a personality like a mule's backside?" Ironheel asked.

"I can attest to the first three," Aveth responded, brow scrunching.

"Name's Tovar," Ironheel supplied. "Quintillius's right hand man. About the only person he trusts with anything important. You'd do well to steer clear of him." A hand drifted almost unconsciously to touch his face before the act brought a wince. "That man likes nothing more than to make others suffer… for a long damn time."

"He's dead," Aveth said simply. Then his tone softened. "I'm certain. I watched the life fade from his eyes until nothing was left."

Ironheel's gaze fixed on the wall for a moment before he swallowed hard. The muscles that stood rigid in his neck relaxed slightly.

"Well then the world just became a little brighter," the man finally said, forcing a grim smile. "And you two might just stand a chance."

"Do you know where Quintillius would be?" Aveth asked.

"Of course," Ironheel scoffed, pausing to cough. "Man's nothing if not predictable. Only one place he'd go if you burned down his house. Good on you for that, by the way."

"Where?" Aveth pressed, stepping closer.

"An old fort near the city. He's got it under his control. But that place won't be as easy as the manor."

"Yes," Aveth hissed, fist clenching at his side. "But it's not over until he's dead."

Ironheel considered that for a moment.

"Maybe. But you've just proven you're not to be crossed. He might decide that you're not worth the effort... or the coin."

"He's still going to die," Aveth promised.

Nova's eyes widened at his tone, but she said nothing. Still, it was strange to see the normally tranquil Aveth… hostile.

"Good," Ironheel praised, the word drawn like a sigh. "Now… if you don't mind, I'm… tired."

"We'll leave you to rest," Aveth replied.

Nova made for the door, Aveth in her wake before he paused. She stopped silently in turn.

"I'm sorry," he offered.

The wounded man did not open his eyes. "For?"

"Leaving you in there the first time. Walking away."

"Didn't expect anything else from you," Ironheel commented, cracking open an eyelid.

Aveth simply turned to him with a look beyond his considerable years.

Ironheel's mouth scrunched into a grimace.

"Well, maybe I had a bit of hope. But you came back, so it all worked out." He resettled himself with a grunt, then sighed. "What's done is done. Leave the past there."

Aveth's lip quirked at the brazen attitude, but he smiled nonetheless.

A gentle knock broke the silence before Nova pulled open the door and moved aside. Reina stepped into the room, a heavy blanket in one hand and a bowl of soup in the other. She looked to Aveth with an apologetic smile.

"Pardon the intrusion," she began. "This was the warmest blanket I could find."

Aveth hurried to accept it.

"My thanks," he said with a relieved sigh.

"I brought your friend a big helping of stew too. I'm not sure if-" Reina's words cut off with a gasp as she looked to the bed and saw Ironheel for the first time. She hissed out a breath through gritted teeth as her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened, no doubt to loose a torrent of questions, but asked only one. "What happened?"

"We're not certain," Aveth supplied. "He was… held captive for a time."

Reina drew in another breath, but did not turn away. Instead, she approached and bent to study his wounds, setting the bowl of stew on the nightstand. She drew back and frowned for a moment before bidding them all to wait there and whirling from the room in a flurry of rippling skirt. Her feet drummed out a rhythm on the stairs, followed by silence. A moment later, her footsteps resounded again just before she flew into the room once more, a bag clutched in her hand. She set it on the nightstand and pulled it open.

From the drab brown depths, she extracted a small ceramic container along with two others and opened the lids. The earthy scent of herbs drifted from them.

"What's his name?" Reina asked.

"Ironheel," Aveth answered.

She called to him by name, but he did not stir from his sleep, not even when she set a hand on his shoulder. Biting her lip, she turned to Aveth and Nova. "I'd like to put something on that," she gestured to the half of the man's raw, puffy face.

"Could you?" Aveth asked hopefully.

Reina smiled and gave a single nod before setting to work. "This should help reduce the swelling and speed his healing, as well as keeping any of these cuts from getting infected," she said.

Cuts? Nova wondered at that, peering closer. Sure enough, there were places where the man's swelled and bloodied skin had split open.

Aveth nodded at Reina's words. "Thank you," he sighed, his relief palpable.

"Of course," she smiled, continuing her work with a remarkably delicate touch. "Though he really should be taken to the temple in the morning for proper care."

"That is actually a point of contention at the moment," the dunmer replied.

Reina's response was a hopeless roll of her eyes. Why were people so stubborn about getting the help they needed to heal properly? It baffled her.

Aveth watched her work and frowned slightly as a thought struck him. Hadn't she been wearing orange robes earlier? A healer's garb… Gears began to turn in his mind, gathering strength with each passing moment. A healer's garb, with the skills to match? She had to be a student at the temple. And with how… _friendly_ she and Nova were… This girl… could she be… He bit his lip, halfway tempted to ask Nova for the amulet. He turned to her, but the words died instantly.

Nova stood like she was carved from stone, unmovable and rooted to the very floor. Her wide eyes were fixed squarely on Reina as her lips parted. A hand drifted up and clutched the amulet beneath her shirt. He did not miss the tremble in her fingers. Aveth reached out slowly and set a hand on her shoulder. She did not turn to him. Indeed, it was as if she couldn't bear to look away. A name whispered on her silent lips in a mixture of hope and disbelief.

_Lucinda?_

Reina pulled back from the bed and returned her items to the bag. The air smelt of soil in the rain and flowers, with just a hint of something waxy. "That should help," she sighed happily, eyes shining. "But I'd like you to have him drink this in a tea twice a day." She passed over a small sachet that Aveth hastened forward to accept.

"Thank you for all you've done," he said softly. "I… Can I offer you-" he paused, realizing he had very little gold to give after buying yet more potions for the ailing man.

"No," Reina chuckled, shaking her head. "Just call me at once if he gets any worse or if he doesn't improve after a few days. I'll check in when I can, otherwise." She lifted her bag and excused herself.

At the very least, Nova opened the door for her.

In the silence that followed, Aveth bit his lip again.

"There are more students," he had to remind. "And we don't know their birthsigns yet."

Nova nodded. It seemed like a good response. He kept talking, but she heard no more, watching the retreating form of the woman as she descended the stairs.

* * *

Quintillius picked up a glass decanter of wine and poured it into his crystalline goblet. The red liquid sent a sharp tang wafting through the air. The drab stone walls around him bore fine tapestries, along with a series of paintings, while a rich rug splayed across the floor. It did little to improve the run-down fort's appeal, but it was _his_. Quintillius smiled and took a sip before making his way past three large bookshelves and settling himself in a cushioned chair behind a polished desk. A sigh of blissful contentment escaped his lips as if he had not a care in all the world.

"You see," he remarked to the man in front of him. "Business, my good man, is much like wine. It can be dull and no more than drivel when cheap components and half-hearted efforts mix with preposterously poor planning. Ah, but when you deal with only the finest goods, and use the best methods, it can become something worth savoring."

The man in brown regalia on the other side of the desk looked to the questionable brutes on either side of Quintillius and could not fight the sneer that curled his lip. The finest, truly.

"Your home is in ashes," he reminded sternly.

That made the bald man pause, glass halfway to his lips. He swirled it as if contemplating, then nodded. "Yes. That is a rather unfortunate turn of events." He looked away to his wide window, just barely able to see a sliver of the setting silver moon beyond. "If only they could have seen reason. I do so like warriors willing to do whatever it takes to achieve an end, don't you, Ralif?"

Ralif only continued scowling.

"But where are my manners?" Quintillius purred. "I've kept you far too long already. Shall we get down to business then?" The question was rhetorical. "Tell me, what have you learned about our fiery friends?"

"From what Tovar got out of the traitor, they're after the girls at the temple. Healers-in-training or some such," he said with a dismissive snort, resisting the urge to spit on the floor.

"Why?" Quin drawled, brow furrowed.

"Who knows? But I gather it's important to them."

Quintillius gave the man a patronizing glare over his wine glass. "What an astute observation."

Ralif shrugged off the scorn.

"And that's all they're here for?" the bald man wondered to himself, frowning. "No matter. Collect the students, all of them." He sipped the sharp red liquid. "No one crosses me and lives."

"Understood," Ralif nodded. "But sir… there's the matter of who will succeed Tovar."

Quintillius sighed, the sound more like a growl in his throat. His home and his right hand man in one day? He clenched his fist. He should have killed the whelps at once, but that was not the way the game was played. His rivals would mark the action as fearful, he was sure of it. But if he could turn a profit from such a situation? That would send a proper message to the lot of them, and a new crop of lovely little healers? Oh, he could tailor to _so_ many tastes. When he spoke, his voice was honey-sweet, devoid of all trace of malice.

"Why, you of course, dear boy."

Ralif's eyes widened. "Thank you sir! I won't disappoint you."

"There's no way you can," Quin praised. That was actually true. After all, he expected disastrous results from this unproven cretin. From there, he could only be pleasantly surprised. "Now off you go."

"Yes sir!" Ralif nodded, pressing a fist to his chest. He turned toward the door, but paused, reaching for the handle. "There's one more thing," he added, looking back over his shoulder. "I've been getting some straggling reports from my eyes. I'm not entirely sure if they're accurate, sir, but it seems the warrior lass and the barmaid at the inn are getting pretty cozy, if you catch my meaning."

Quintillius's gaze flicked up, his face spreading slowly into a wicked grin.

"Well that explains quite a bit," he purred, swirling his index finger around the lip of his glass. "But she's no longer of an interest to me." He murmured the words as if to himself, then lifted his voice. "Add the barmaid to the list."

Ralif gave a single nod and hurried from the room.

* * *

Aveth lay sprawled on their bed, his head pillowed on his hands as he leaned back. Nova kept her back to him, running a cloth over the same piece of armor. It had gone from clean to immaculate, and now he feared if she tended it much longer, it would turn to dust in her hands. It was definitely time to pull her from her thoughts. And he knew just the right words to use. Or rather… tease with. A cheshire grin spread over his face. He couldn't start with the greatest issue looming over them. Nova, he knew, needed time. So instead...

"So," Aveth drawled in a honey-sweet voice.

"Don't _even_," Nova warned.

"It was kind of you to walk Reina home," Aveth probed, looking to her out of one eye.

Nova stiffened for a moment, then simply shrugged. He gave an internal sigh. Alright, so this topic wasn't absolutely off limits.

"It was prudent. She looks like an easy target, lithe and pretty. I didn't want anyone to give her trouble."

Pretty hm? He'd let that one go for now.

"I'm just saying you went out of your way for her. It was nice."

"Are you trying to find a polite way to tell me I'm losing my focus?" she asked, mercifully setting down her armor piece.

"Not in the least!" he balked, sitting up. This time the words were gentle, sincere. "I'm just glad to see you smile. It's like you're becoming a real person again."

Nova opened her mouth, closed it and shook her head. Her eyes narrowed shrewdly as she threw him a secretive sidelong glance. Oh, two could play at this game.

"You're just jealous because I'm making friends that aren't you."

Aveth fixed her with an incredulous look, eyebrow quirked.

"Really?"

Nova turned and offered him a triumphant smirk, happily hiding behind humor.

"Sure. That's exactly what it is," he sighed, laying back down and closing his eyes.

Nova turned back to the dresser where a steaming bowl of water sat beside her armor and stripped off her light shirt and pants. She dipped a cloth into the warmth and wrung it out before wiping at her arms.

Aveth paid all the attention he would give a grain of sand. A body without clothes on was simply that. In fact, he preferred the vestments. It left something for the imagination.

Centuries had let them build a remarkable ease around one another, and in that time, Aveth had professed such thoughts, and to her skeptical stare, made a strange admission. He did not find anyone attractive. That wasn't to say he thought everyone was ugly, nor that he did not see the beauty in a lovely form. But actual attraction was another matter entirely. A remarkably absent one.

Nova had wondered at first... and eyed him dubiously. She had to muse if he simply hadn't found the right person yet. Would he suddenly decide she was desirable one day? Did she need to worry? But then her thoughts subsided and she simply came to accept it as Aveth. Aveth was Aveth and that was that. He did not need to be anything else, nor be like anyone else.

Nova cast a glance back at the dunmer and had to admit that Reina's assumption about them was not unfounded. From the outside, they would look much like a couple.

She dipped a cloth rag in the basin's warm water and continued washing the day from her skin.

Aveth's mused question caught her off guard.

"Have you fed?"

She tensed.

"That would be a no," he answered for her, chuckling.

Nova bit her lip. Did she make an excuse, or admit she'd put it off?

"Just hug Reina again," Aveth commented, smirking. He snatched up the damp rag that came flying at his head.

"_She_ hugged _me_ I'll have you know! And she was just grateful that I'd walked her home! So quit being such a spy!" Nova huffed.

"Awfully defensive," he grinned, throwing the rag back. "Of course I'm sure I interrupted nothing at all earlier either."

Nova caught the cloth and dipped it back in the bowl, turning away as she resumed her task with a litany of swears muttered under her breath. After a time, she pulled on a fresh set of shirt and pants, then paused. When she spoke again, her voice was low, barely audible.

"If she is indeed our queen, it would be most improper."

Aveth swallowed and took a breath. There it was.

"And if she is not?" he asked gently.

"Then I must move on," Nova murmured solemnly. "My duty is to my queen. No other will distract me from her." Her breath caught for but a moment. "I _will_ find her, Aveth." There was a pause. "But perhaps… even if it's not Reina, I could return… visit for a time..."

"I think that... would be a nice plan," he replied, slipping beneath the blankets and rolling onto his side. It was a measure of balance for her, at least...

Nova joined him after a time, blowing out the candle on the bedside table and curling up with her back to him.

"Lucinda would want you to be happy, after all," he offered to the darkness.

"Yes. And I will be when I find her," Nova stated.

Aveth frowned silently.

"You walk a dangerous edge with that mentality," he cautioned, not unkindly. She did not reply, and indeed he expected as much. There in the dark, Aveth closed his eyes with a sigh.

* * *

Nova's soft breath was the only sound in the room as Aveth lay awake. Sleep would not come to him, regardless of how weary his body was. He rose and moved to the room's chair before lighting a candle and picking up a stray book from the dresser. Yet he quickly found his thoughts trailing, and after reading the same sentence three times, he shut the tome gently and set it aside, eyes turning to Nova. A heavy sigh threaded from him as gnawing, cloying anger chewed at his bones. But no, that wasn't quite right. If he took the time to peel away the emotions that shielded him… if he was honest with himself… he was jealous. He rubbed his ruby eyes with a bitter nod. He… was jealous of Nova.

She was consumed by such a fiery passion for the one she loved, whether she could admit her feelings or not. He, on the other hand? He saw only people, felt only friendship. But no matter how deep a bond said friendship was, it was not the passion that forged song, nor started wars. He was the oddity, an outsider looking in. Always hearing of something he never got to feel. Didn't she know how much he would give to feel what she felt? Because he was far beyond consoling himself to be careful what he wished for, or that it was more trouble than it was worth. Most days, he gave it no thought, but lately… lately there was a loneliness within him. It let him be in a room filled with people and still feel utterly alone. And in the dark of night… he found himself wondering if he would live and die alone. It was not rational, oh, he knew. But it was there. And so few people could understand. Friendship was not the same; it would not soothe him.

Aveth raked his fingers through his auburn hair. There was little he could do. If he could have made himself feel something, Ancestors he would, consequences be damned. But it simply did not work that way. He looked again to Nova, sequestering his feelings as he waited for them to pass. A rueful smile crossed his lips. Maybe if he stayed near her long enough, something would wake up inside of him. After all… better five hundred years late than never, right? It didn't work that way either, but the thought was still there.

He pursed his lips, staring a moment longer before standing and blowing out the candle. On silent footsteps, he left the room and wandered out into the night. Sitting still would drive him mad sooner than anything. But the wonderful thing about cities was there was always something going on, something to do.

He turned his feet toward the temple first. The ailing knew no hour, only the pain in their flesh. He would offer his aid there first. If that failed him, well, perhaps he'd run into an unfortunate robber who chose the wrong night to be out, or someone wandering home late who was unknowingly in need of a rooftop guardian. The thought made him smile, though it did not yet reach his eyes as his boots thudded dully on the cobbled road.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Artifice

Aveth rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he sat up in bed. Cursing both the morning light and himself for sleeping late, he donned his charcoal-hued leather armor with practiced hands. The task was enough to let his mind catch up with his body and emerge into full wakefulness. He stepped out into the hall and stretched, back popping. Soft chatter bubbled up from the common room below, but he paid it little heed. Instead, the rustle of crisp sheets from an open door along the hall caught his focus. He made for the room and spied Reina within, changing the linens of the bed.

"Need some help?" he offered, cracking his neck.

Reina jumped a bit in surprise.

"Oh! I've got it, but thank you."

Aveth nodded agreeably before speaking again. "Reina, may I ask you something?"

She paused in straightening the wrinkles from the blanket, standing and giving him her full attention. "Of course," came her earnest reply.

"What stars were you born under?"

She blinked at the odd question, and Aveth couldn't blame her.

"The Lady," Reina replied, trying without success to hide her confusion.

"The Lady," he whispered, almost to himself. Indeed, it seemed everything was falling into place. But he still had to be sure. For Nova's sake if nothing else.

"You're learning the healer's trade, aren't you," he continued. It wasn't a question.

"Yes, but I don't-"

"I know," he cut her off. "It's strange of me to ask, but I wonder if I could beg a favor of you. Could you ask your classmates for their birthsigns as well?" Her brow furrowed further, prompting him to play his most valuable card. "Nova would be especially grateful."

Reina bit her lip, but something passed behind her eyes. Aveth watched her demeanor change from uncertain to authoritative in the single beat of a heart. She squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye, unflinching.

"Why do you want to know?" she demanded, though her tone was level.

Aveth fought down the urge to smirk. She almost sounded… regal. But maybe that was just his own imagining. He opened his mouth, mind working out how to begin.

"Reina," came George's voice from the doorway.

Aveth glanced back to see the man stride into the room, passing Reina a small box.

"You go ahead. I'll finish up here," George insisted.

"Thanks Dad," Reina smiled, her demeanor shifting back to her normal state. She kissed her father on the cheek before excusing herself and hurrying away.

Aveth made to follow when the man's heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

"You and I are going to talk," the innkeeper insisted, voice low.

Oh. Good.

Aveth took a deep breath through his nose and pushed away his building apprehension. "Yes, I think it's time." He walked away only to shut the door and turn back, speaking softly. Behind his eyes there was a quiet determination. George needed to know. He owed the man that much at least. Even if only half of his suspicions were correct… Reina was their best candidate in centuries, and both he and Nova knew it. Indeed, he doubted his companion could walk away from her at this point, regardless.

"You might want to sit down," Aveth said.

George didn't move.

With a sigh, Aveth began to speak, recounting the story he'd managed to pull from Nova over the decades. He told of Lucinda's reign, her fall, and her ever-present bodyguard that sat below them in the common room now. He told of his journey with her across the land in search of the queen's soul reborn in a new vessel and their quest to return her to be confirmed by the Ancestors, though he carefully omitted his and Nova's eternal natures, letting the man believe it was simply natural for elves, or half-elves. Then, at George's prompt, he told him of the island, Aelyria, Nova's people… and the dark, lupine enemy that haunted their shores.

"And those… wolf-things would have killed everyone if the queen hadn't cast her spell?" George clarified, eyes shrouded as if he didn't believe a word, but was content to humor the dunmer for a time. "Just what are they exactly?"

"From my understanding, a… sort of shadow beast. They call them garm. I don't know many details, I'm afraid. You would probably have to ask Nova."

George's face soured at that.

"She and the queen," he began, folding his arms as the immovable bastion of Reina's father glared with narrowed eyes. "Were they…?" Suspicion saturated his words.

"No," Aveth said softly, almost bitterly. In truth, he wasn't certain of the real answer, but if he knew his companion as well as he thought… "For a reason beyond me, Nova will not permit such a thing between them. Then or now." The last was whispered with an almost hostile edge before Aveth took a calming breath.

"Why do you even need the old queen? Just crown a new one," George scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if the answer were obvious.

Aveth grimaced. It was a private matter for Nova's people. He should not divulge it, but perhaps something with just enough of the truth…

"It's complicated. Even I don't quite understand it." he deflected with a meager lie. "But they need her. Without her, her people will be overrun by those monstrosities."

"This is a little… outlandish," George scoffed, shifting on his feet impatiently. "In fact, a _lot_ outlandish."

"I know," Aveth nodded.

"And you want me to let her be taken away to some island I've never heard of to be 'tested'?" the man spat.

Aveth set a hand on the man's shoulder. He could not push him into giving up his daughter. Best to give him time to think. "For now, just consider what I've said. Who knows, maybe some things will start to make sense." He hoped that was true for Nova's sake. Would she draw her blade against George if it came to that? No, no of course not. But knocking him out? That was distinctly possible.

George gave a contemptuous grunt in reply.

"I'm not asking you to believe, accept, or allow anything," Aveth asserted calmly. "I'm only asking you to hear it without judgment, just listening."

George's expression softened marginally at that.

"I suppose I can do that," he nodded almost absently. With that, he continued tending the room where Reina had left off, dismissing Aveth with a wave of his hand, though not unkindly.

The dunmer nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind himself. He walked all of five steps in the hall before he noticed Nova at the head of the stairs.

Aveth struggled against the urge to bite his lip. Now how exactly did he tell Nova? Specifically without her throwing him through a wall.

"You have _the_ most guilty look on your face that I've ever seen," she commented with a smirk. "Alright, out with it."

Ancestors smite him. He opened his mouth, shut it, then tried again, all the while steering her gently into their room and closing the door.

"I… asked Reina her birthsign," he said gently. "It matches Lucinda's."

Nova's jaw stiffened.

"I… I suspected as much," she finally admitted, voice barely audible. Her boots thudded dully as she walked to the window with glassy eyes. Silence trickled between them like a soft rain.

"Nova?" he pressed delicately. "What do you want to do?"

She did not answer, and again the soundless void reigned.

"Aveth?" her voice finally called, eerily soft. "Is it alright? What I'm doing…" She paused and bit her lip. "Do I have any right to ask her to give up the life she has for one she can't recall?"

"You know why you must," he said. "Without an anointed royal on the throne, without Lucinda-"

"My people will be overrun by darkness incarnate," she finished for him. "If I fail here..." she let the thought trail into nothing before trying anew. "The magic of the Ancestors keeps those monstrosities at bay for now, but it's fading. We won't be able to rely on it much longer, and I _know_ that!" she said through gritted teeth. "But… I- I can't help but wonder… if this is fair for _her_."

"I... can't answer that," he admitted. When she turned to study him, he continued, "You'll have to ask her what she wants."

Nova opened her mouth, then it grew into a smile before she gave a single nod.

"I'd like that," she said softly. "I'm getting tired of keeping secrets. Especially from her."

"Well," Aveth began with something between a smirk and a grimace. "Then on that note, I should probably mention I told George... almost everything."

Nova's expression turned sour. Her eyes burned into him before she sighed through her nose. "Outstanding."

"We need him on our side," the dunmer reminded.

"I know," Nova agreed, albeit grumbling.

There was another long silence, but Aveth simply stood there, waiting patiently for her to speak. After all, he did have an eternity.

"Aveth?" she murmured at last.

"Hm?"

"I thought I'd be happy," was all she said, a strange defeat lingering in her words. "But ever since last night..."

The sadness burrowed like a needle stabbed into his chest. "Nova," he said, the name sounding much like a coo. He approached her slowly, settling an arm around her shoulders.

"Talk to me," he pressed softly. "Please."

"It's stupid," she dismissed.

"It's not, because it clearly bothers you," he said pointedly.

Nova remained silent until he shook her gently in his grip.

"It's just..." she forced out. "I really like Reina. I do. She's..." Far too many words filled her mind for her to articulate, so she let the thought fall into nothing. "But if we return her to Aelyria and the Ancestors name her Lucinda reborn… she'll become queen, and if she becomes queen… then everything changes." Nova paused and gathered her spiraling thoughts as she rubbed her weary eyes. "If she becomes queen…"

"You cannot be together in the way that you want?" Aveth supplied softly.

Nova stiffened in his grasp before struggling vainly in an attempt to break free.

"No!" she protested harshly. Too harshly. "It's not like that."

"You are your own worst enemy, old friend," Aveth said, pulling her closer.

Nova did not answer. He didn't understand. There was a simple truth in all of it.

She was unworthy. She was nothing more than a half-breed, dirty and graceless. How in the Ancestors' names could her affections for Lucinda ever be acceptable? Lucinda was a brilliant, virtuous soul, filled with kindness and a compassion beyond any mortal's ken. She had been beautiful, graceful… Indeed, she was everything that Nova was not. Yet still, she had treated Nova like she'd truly mattered when Nova had been little more than a stray dog. Always kind, always… warm.

Nova closed her eyes. She could not say the words, indeed, she could hardly think them. But she had loved Lucinda. And she still did. She always would. But Ancestors… if Lucinda had known…. Nova shuddered at the thought, prompting Aveth to hold her tighter. If Lucinda had known, she would have sent her away. It would have come from a desire to shield the warrior from the longings in her heart, to protect her from the pain such unrequited feelings would foster, but she would have done it none the less. Or perhaps… Lucinda would have been disgusted. Nova clenched her eyes shut tighter, shaking her head. She simply could not bear that. A blade to her heart would be preferable… Spirits, in either scenario.

No, it was far better to keep it hidden away. She had to bury it down deep, to carry it to her grave. That way, she would not have to risk the glares from her fellow islanders toward the dog who'd dared sully their queen. If she could only keep her silence then...

She would not have to endure Lucinda's rejection.

Because that would destroy her far more completely than any blade ever could.

Nova set a hand on Aveth's chest, silently extracting herself from his embrace. Her feet shuffled to the door like a dreamer's, far too many thoughts tearing through her mind. The cyclone drained her strength with every heartbeat. She found herself in the streets a moment later, wandering blindly through clustered buildings. She pushed into a demanding jog, letting the action eat up her consciousness until there was only the drum of her footsteps and the heave of her breath.

The day faded into late afternoon as she found herself laying beneath the sheltering boughs of a pine tree, staring up into its green needles. If she focused on it, she could almost place herself back among her forested homeland, sheltered in the whispering pines. The tree's sweet scent filled her with warm memories of home, finally allowing a meager sense of peace to wash over her. Ancestors, it had been too long.

* * *

Ralif stood beside a cart of cabbages and tried not to grimace at the smell. Despite the frigid air, they still reeked in the sun. He pushed them from his thoughts, eyes widening as a woman in black armor trotted past. Her likewise black hair set her apart from the warrior women of the nords, but even with such a clue, he would have known _her_. He set down the apples he was pretending to inspect and gave a subtle gesture across the market. Two men nodded, and broke from the rabble, drifting in opposite directions. He made his way at a leisurely pace toward the same alley she'd vanished into, and broke into a trot as he turned a corner, away from prying eyes.

Finding her alone was an opportunity he wasn't about to squander. If he killed her, Quintillius would surely reward him.

He pushed onward down a narrow street before coming to a crossroads. Ralif grimaced. He was never good at decisions like this. Ah, but he'd just been promoted! He'd have to start being good at it! Ralif glanced both directions, his grimace morphing into a toothy scowl. Left. No, right. Definitely right. He wheeled and ran before he could change his mind.

* * *

Nova sighed, laying in the straggly grass beneath the tree. It wasn't remarkably comfortable, but just enough like home to let her pretend.

She missed the sea. The absence of the gentle waves in the distance rang louder than she thought possible. She missed the dewy morning fog that rolled in from the great expanse. How could she have ever thought it was annoying? Of course… she shed no tears for the perpetually damp air that made her hair stick out in every direction. That she could do without. Oh but the sand. Yes! She wanted nothing more than to kick off her boots and bury her toes in it, just where the waves could wash over them. Preferably the summer waves, but the temperatures there rarely warmed excessively. None of her people ever seemed to mind the climate though, much like Skyrim's own ilk. Though the similarities ended there, she mused, as the Nords could hardly rival their craftsmanship. Indeed, the medium hardly mattered. From forging to tailoring, carpentry to alchemy, when her people set their minds to create something, they did so with an almost otherworldly skill. Perhaps it was the grace of their Ancestors, flowing through them, or the centuries worth of life to practice.

Such dedication echoed even further into their combat prowess, likely for the same reason.

Or perhaps it was the enemy that haunted their shores…

With the abominable threat just beyond their city's wall, each citizen was mandated to appear for training in fist, bow and blade, along with magic if they wished, until they reached a level of proficiency the royal guard's commander found agreeable. Nova shivered involuntarily. She was sure Commander Trentus's definition of "adequate" would make most human soldiers flee, screaming. But it meant that their borders could be defended by anyone old enough to swing a blade.

Nova's own ineptitude with archery notwithstanding….

She could still hear the old dog's barking to this day. "You call that a stance?" And the ever popular: "So, your plan is to make the enemy laugh themselves to death?" She let a smile light her face before a drumming sound came to her ears. Her eyes darted to an opening between two buildings as three men filed out. The hair on the back of her neck rose and tingled at the sight.

Nova did not pause to consider, but obeyed her instincts at once, drawing her knees to her chest and snapping her legs up and out in an arc, veritably vaulting her own body into a standing position.

"Nice trick," one of the men smirked.

She did not answer, watching them warily. Her left hand hung close to her sword's sheath, ready to grab it should she need to draw her blade. Yet she forced a neutral air, despite her welling unease. There was no need to escalate things before she knew their intentions. A detached part of her mind noted that they looked strangely out of breath, as if they'd been running through the streets all morning.

"You!" a man with drab brown hair called. His equally drab, equally brown clothes were cloaked in dust. "Do you… have any idea..." he huffed through great breaths. "You know what? Never mind. I'm just going… to kill you."

She blinked.

"You know, I almost like you," Nova quipped, a smirk lighting her face. "You don't bandy words, you just spell out your intent from the start. Makes things so much easier." Her blade came free of its sheath with a hiss.

The first man rushed her, drawing a dagger hidden in his sleeve. Nova's smirk did not falter as his strides pushed him toward her. She feinted a dodge, then cut a silver arc with her blade, cleaving the man's head from his body before she spun away from the crumpling remains. In the back of her mind, a sigh rose. She'd just finished cleaning her gear. Some people had no respect. And no intelligence, it seemed.

The second man pulled a dagger and ran for her just after the first. He saw his ally fall, but could not change course in time. She stabbed, but needn't have bothered. He was too close to dodge now, and his reckless momentum impaled his own torso on her blade before she cast him to the ground, pulling her weapon free. She stabbed again to hasten his death.

"See, here's the problem," she announced to the third man, in his drab brown everything. "I have a sword. Which is longer than a dagger. Meaning I can stab you before you stab me." Her tone was patronizing, as if she was explaining things to a child for the fifth time. "Running straight for me is a really good way to get yourselves killed. Case and point." She gestured to the dead and dying man. "In fact, fighting me in general falls under that category."

"Good to know," the man grimaced, drawing his own dagger and angling it toward her.

"So," Nova glowered. "If at first you don't succeed, redefine success?"

"No," he drawled, as if waiting for something.

Nova's face drained of mirth as her skin tingled. She spun on her heel in time to see a woman with a sword lifted and starting to swing for her neck.

Nova vaulted away diagonally, just managing to clear the lethal arc before bringing her own blade to bear as the woman recovered from her swing and raised her blade again. There was an armored man behind her with a heavy crop of black hair and an evil-looking warhammer of green metal in his hands. As they advanced, so did the drab man, far closer than she would have liked.

"How about a tip for _you_?" he jeered, adopting his own patronizing tone. "Make sure to prattle on during a fight. It's easier for your opponents to sneak up on you that way."

Nova flashed him a smirk. She _really_ shouldn't, but she couldn't resist.

"Lesson two: fight smarter, not harder."

She vanished in a dull blaze of dark blue light. Before anyone could wonder what had happened, she reappeared behind the man with the warhammer, her sword protruding at an angle from the front of his throat. Nova pulled it free and vanished again. This time the woman with the sword was not impressed, stabbing for where she'd been a moment before. Hitting only air, she lashed out to either side. She turned, stabbing wildly behind her, expecting the same attack her ally had received.

Nova almost rolled her eyes. That would be far too predictable. Instead, she lifted her invisible blade and stabbed the woman through the heart. The spell shattered like the bones in her sword's path before the woman fell, convulsing. The black-armored warrior lifted her eyes to the drab man again. He tensed, no doubt expecting her to use her spell once more. But again, predictable, and as Commander Trentus liked to say: predictable was just another word for dead. Actually he'd yelled it, but that was just because he had to scare new trainees. Probably.

Nova charged with a war cry, crossing the distance between them with two powerful strides. He dodged to the side, throwing himself into a roll before surging to his feet. She followed, and did not hesitate as she swung her blade upward diagonally, cutting a dire gash across his back as he tried to flee. He staggered under the force of the blow, falling to his hands and knees as his dagger clattered to the dirt. The man rolled to the side before a heavy boot landed on his chest, pinning him in place.

"You're not just some shadow-touched lowlife, are you?" she surmised with narrowed eyes, hovering her blade over his heart.

"Quintillius sends his regards," the man smirked, spitting blood at her, but failing as it simply arced back down and landed on his shirt. "Go ahead and run me through. You and every one you give half a damn about are as good as dead, he'll see to that, don't think he won't! And-"

Nova's blade plunged downward with violent force, splintering the bones in its path as it pierced clean through his heart and continued into the dirt beneath him. She glanced back to check her surroundings, then watched the life fade from his eyes, just to be sure. It was downright aggravating when an opponent managed a life-saving spell or pulled a potion from some unseen depths. She withdrew her blade and stepped back.

Drumming footsteps made her turn and raise her sword once more. She relaxed at once when a trio of the city's guards thundered in, weapons drawn. With a flourish, she set her blade's tip against the dirt and held out her free hand.

"What's going on here?" the guard demanded.

Well, wasn't _that_ a story. Nova pushed the thought away and resigned herself to relaying the tale. Second advantage to making sure one's opponent's were dead? Dead men told no tales.

* * *

Reina gave a hopeless sigh and once again tucked her hair behind her ear as she stared at the parchment on her desk. She should have tied back her hair. But there wasn't time now. She risked a glance up to Healer Lee's worn desk. The hourglass upon it was nearly drained of its ivory sand.

Reina looked to the final question on the page and wrote a paragraph in answer, almost without having to pause and think about it. To be fair though, it was asking about reducing swelling. Her thoughts drifted back to the wounded man. Ironheel, wasn't it? Gods, his face…. She'd looked in on him that morning to find he'd improved over the night, but marginally. It left her wondering exactly how frowned upon it actually was to throw a person over one's shoulder and carry them to the temple.

She stood, stretching her neck and picking up her paper. Placing it into the elderly healer's waiting hands, she turned back to her desk and looked again at the empty table beside her own. Raven had not made it today. Despite the young woman's lackadaisical attitude, it was unlike her to be absent. A worried frown creased Reina's face. She really should check in on her. The poor girl was probably sick as a dog.

A hand nudged her shoulder. She turned to see Vara returning from handing in her own work, along with Miranda.

Healer Lee's soft voice carried to them, "You can all go now, if you'd like." There was a smirk in the words, as if she dared anyone to linger.

None of them accepted the challenge. The trio strode out into the beginnings of sunset.

"Should we take Raven a copy of the test?" Vara smirked. "I'd hate for her to miss out."

"She'd turn you into a toad," Miranda deadpanned.

"It'd be worth it," Vara assured.

"I would like to make sure she's alright," Reina professed.

"Can I bring the test?" Vara asked, lifting a devious eyebrow.

"No," the other two answered in unison before all of them started down the street together.

"How do you think you did?" Miranda inquired of them.

"The first couple of questions weren't great," Vara admitted glumly. "But not too bad otherwise."

Reina opened her mouth to reply next, but a voice called out from the alleyway. A nord with gray hair and worn armor lingered in the shadows. His scar-littered face scrunched with worry.

"Pardon ladies, but would any of you happen to know where the temple is? My friend got himself pretty beat up and I don't know the city well."

Miranda took the lead, head raised imperiously.

"Of course, tell us what happened."

"Well, you see, I don't rightly know," he admitted, removing his horned helmet and wringing it in his hands. "He's not waking up. I… I tried. I'm not sure if I can move him. I'm… not sure if I _should_ move him."

Miranda glanced to the others, then turned back to the man.

"I'm apprenticed as a healer. I'll take a look," she declared.

"We'll _all_ go," Vara insisted, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Reina's lips made a thin line, but she nodded her agreement. "I'm sure between us we can either help him or get him to the temple."

"Thank you," the man sighed, relief saturating his words. He ushered them through the alley, talking all the while. "He's just over here, the small house." He hurried to the door and opened it for them, motioning them quickly inside. "I can't tell you what a relief this is, thank you."

He smiled. That was actually true. It was, after all, so much easier when his quarry followed to a place away from prying eyes. He'd almost felt bad, capturing the first with such ease. Now with these three wandering right in? Ah, some days he was just a lucky soul.

* * *

Aveth paced the room. Nova watched him from the bed, then returned to inspecting the edge of her newly cleaned blade before sheathing it. So many bones and hardly a scratch. He turned in another tight circle, brisk steps carrying him from the door to the window and back. Indeed the guard had taken her story of the attack better. But then again, in that version, the assailants had been no more than robbers after her coin. Yes Officer, all five of them. Why yes, that _was_ strange, Officer. Big mystery.

"In daylight no less!" Aveth swore. "I did not think Quintillius would be so bold."

"Technically he wasn't," Nova commented. "He sent his underlings."

He shot her a glare and the mirth faded from her features.

"We must attack tonight."

"Won't he be expecting that now?" she asked.

"Have we a choice?" he returned, drawing to a halt.

She sighed in concession.

"But I do have a few ideas," Aveth placated, the ghost of a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Do I have to set the fort on fire?" she grimaced.

"Stone is much too hard to burn," he dismissed with the wave of his hand.

Nova blinked. Wait a moment… stone shouldn't burn at all.

"You know what? Don't tell me until tonight. I don't want to know yet," she insisted, shaking her head.

This time the smirk he gave in response made her shiver.

He smoothed his features and donned a small smile instead. "Then how about some food while we wait for night?"

"That I can agree to," she nodded, standing and offering him a slap on the arm as she passed.

* * *

Reina groaned and touched a hand to the back of her head. The throbbing pain sharpened two-fold and set tinges of white flaking through her vision. She snatched her hand back at once with a hiss.

Her thoughts felt like tar, thick and sluggish. Still, foggy images tried to push through to the surface. She had the vague sense of walking into a run down kitchen from a dark alley just behind Miranda and Vara, then… Had she fallen? No. No, she'd been… struck from behind! But who would do that? Why? Fear washed through her, banishing the confusion.

Her hand felt along the floor as she struggled to push herself up. Cold, damp stone met her touch. It brought another memory to the fore of her thoughts, in it she was being dragged down a hall, iron bars standing here and there along stony walls. Cells? Ahead of her, Miranda's fiery hair shone like a beacon in the dim light as she was carried, draped unceremoniously over the shoulder of a gruff man in iron armor. She caught sight of Vara next, or at least she assumed it was Vara. Only her russet robe was visible, poking from around the back of a shoddily armored warrior. The memory snapped into darkness, and gave her no more clues.

Cells.

Cells?

Dear gods.

Reina stared hard, willing her eyes to focus as she shuffled up to sit. A row of iron bars met her protesting stare. She turned, finding a trio of stone walls to complete her prison.

"No," she moaned bitterly, throat constricting. "No!"

This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. It was a bad dream, that was all. She'd wake up soon!

She couldn't be here. Gods, where _was_ 'here' anyway? This wasn't right! She had to get home, had to get back to her dad! This wasn't happening.

It… it was the city's prison. Yes. It had to be. She'd angered the guards and her father would be along in the morning. It didn't matter that there was not a guard in sight, nor that it was dim, dirty, crumbling, and everything she could not imagine of a city's prison. She clung to the hope, though it slipped through her fingers like sand.

Her breath rushed in and out of her lungs as she surged to her feet. Panic welled in her chest, but before it could manifest, an opening door and voices broke the silence.

Two men strode into view, the first in shabby fur armor that looked as if it had… human bones sewn onto it. Dear gods. He glanced into her cell only once with remarkable apathy.

"Nord, female. Hm, probably around… How old are you girl?" he snapped.

Reina couldn't find her voice.

"Eh, put twenty… two," the man shrugged with a dismissive wave.

The man behind him, clad in a black robe held a book open in one hand and jotted down the words. His eyes flicked to her briefly.

"Pretty," he commented absently, still scribbling. "She'll fetch a good price."

Reina paled. Price?

"Where is this?" she finally managed.

They did not answer, moving on down the short hall to the last two cells.

"An elf," the armored man commented. "Not much to look at with a shaved head, but maybe we can still charge well. 'Exotic goods' and all that."

"Hey, you lout!"

Reina perked at once. That was Miranda! She wasn't alone! But all at once, she hated herself for thinking such a thing. It would be better if her friend was far from here. Miranda's continued tirade broke through her thoughts.

"Do you know who my father is? I'll have you arrested and locked up for the rest of your days! But," she offered imperiously, "I'm willing to plead leniency on your behalf. If you let us go-"

The sound of a strike resonated in the small space, followed by a heavy thud.

"Miranda!" a voice cried.

_Vara_!

"Shut up girl," the man spat. He turned to his companion. "Got 'em?"

With a final stroke of his quill, the robed man nodded. They left without another word.

Miranda's voice called after them, though slightly slurred as the door shut.

"You just made your last mistake!"

Reina dashed to the bars and clutched them tightly, even as the action made her head throb all the more.

"Vara! Miranda!" she cried.

"Reina?" they answered in unison. "Are you alright?

"I'm fine!" she insisted, repeating the question to them.

"Well enough," Miranda asserted. "Raven's here too, but she's just waking up. It looks like they gave her something to make her sleep..." Miranda's voice broke off. The momentary concern that touched her voice vanished as she spoke again. "Any idea where we are?"

"Not a clue," Reina shook her head.

"So what do we do?" Vara asked with a surreal calm.

"My father will find us," Miranda assured. "We just have to be smart until then!"

Reina bit her lip and did not answer. Deep in the back of her mind, there was a thought that felt strange, yet somehow… right. Nova would come for her. Nova would protect her.

She always had.

Reina found herself nodding, as if it was the most logical conclusion she could make.

* * *

George set down a small crate behind the bar's polished counter and cast a furrowed frown toward a table near the back of the room. There sat the black armored warrior and her dunmer companion… with his outlandish stories. George scoffed. He'd be dead, buried, and return as a draugr before he believed that. Or let them carry his daughter off to some gods-forgotten island. He glared anew at the warrior. It was almost a shame she didn't notice.

George folded his arms with a huff. She was getting awfully close to his little girl. Did they think he hadn't noticed? Bah! A father _always_ noticed! It might just be time to have a talk with that warrior. Specifically while sharpening his kitchen knives ever so nonchalantly. Just so she'd understand what happened to people who broke his little girl's heart. Or put her in danger... Or filled her head with nonsensical stories… And look at that, the warrior in question was walking this way. Maybe he have that talk now before Reina got home.

He glanced at the window and stopped, thoughts draining from his mind like water cast from a bucket. It was well past dark. Reina should have been home long before now.

"George?" Nova asked, hesitation wavering in her voice.

It was fine, he told himself. She was probably just with her friends. Catching up. Because he'd made her miss so much class lately.

"George?" Nova called again.

Still, the words spilled from his mouth.

"Reina should be home by now." He kicked himself for the fear and worry in his voice. He was overreacting… Still, he liked that the warrior's hand immediately grasped her sword's sheath.

"I'll find her." The promise came at once, solemn and irrefutable.

George met her eyes for a moment. They veritably burned.

"I'm... overreacting," he admitted with a grimace, the words bitter as he shook his head.

"So am I," she said, turning on her heel and striding for the door.

George doubted he could have stopped her if he'd wanted to, and that was quite alright by him. Because he didn't want to in the slightest. Maybe, just maybe, he would only sharpen _one_ of his knives during their talk. His favorite one, from Hammerfell. But… he'd make them tea. She seemed to like tea.

George watched the door close, then stared at it for an age before the calls of his patrons roused him from his stupor. He moved slowly, repeating the same soothing words in his head that all would be well. But it was a father's job to worry.

* * *

Nova trotted from the inn before a hand caught her arm. She turned, finding Aveth wide eyed.

"Nova..." he hurried. "If Quintillius's men attacked you earlier..."

An icy cold shot down her spine. She shook her head at the implications.

"What? No. No! That's nonsense!" she protested loudly. "He wouldn't! There's no reason!"

"You care about her," he insisted. "It's reason enough!"

No. No, no, no.

Nova's eyes narrowed as a snarl of rage splayed her teeth in feral form.

"If he's harmed her..." she growled from deep in her chest.

"Hurry," Aveth pressed. He did not need to repeat it.

She pushed ahead, running with all the speed she could muster. He wouldn't kill her. He couldn't kill her. Dear Ancestors, please… She couldn't lose her again.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

A Fortress Besieged

Nova burst through the temple door, barely catching it before it slammed into the wall. Three sets of eyes turned to her in alarm, but she paid them no heed. None of them were Reina.

Her gaze snapped to the familiar form of an aged woman, short and slightly stooped as she sat in a bench along the wall, formerly reading a book.

"Healer Lee," she called, prowling forward. "Where is Reina?"

The woman's wrinkled brow furrowed as she bristled.

"I threw you out before," Lee cautioned. "If you don't change your tone, I'll gladly do it again."

Nova trembled with the effort of keeping herself in check as she glared. Aveth set a hand on her arm, steadying her silently.

"She has not come home," Nova managed.

The book fell from Healer Lee's fingers.

"But Reina went home well before sundown!" the woman protested.

Nova paled, yet the woman did not seem to notice.

"Raven did not come to class today," Lee murmured, eyes darting across the floorboards like they had the answers. "Vara's brother came looking for her earlier. What is happening?"

The demand fell on air as Nova whirred from the temple, darting out into the street. Her head whipped to and fro in a desperate attempt to catch sight of pale golden hair and orange robes.

Aveth grabbed her and spun her around to make her look directly at him.

"If she still lives, he'll take her to the fort," he said, hating the implications of his words. But it didn't stop them from being true.

Something shifted in Nova, fear pushed into a dark corner by a sweltering tide of wrath. Aveth stepped back on reflex. She sprinted away in an ebony blur as she made for the city gates. He followed hard on her heels.

* * *

Nova's boots hammered on the cobbled road as she raced across the grassy plains. The dark outline of the fort stood against the stars, lit only in a handful of places by torches. Figures strode atop the walls, almost invisible.

Nova didn't care.

She would kill them.

If they were _lucky_, she would kill them.

She pushed herself even harder toward the bleak bastion. Damn it all, how could she have been so careless! Aveth's steps resounded behind her as he kept pace easily. A sword and dagger flashed in his hands as he drew them, lighting the night with silver. They rushed under the arched gateway in the fort's wall and pushed into the courtyard, startling a group of men as they stood beside a cask of ale. Grotesque armor threaded with bones donned their forms just as equally as their scowls at the intruders. Four in all, even with the element of surprise, it would not be an easy fight. Nova ground her teeth together. It was time she could not afford!

"Go!" Aveth barked.

She cringed at the word, hating herself, but could not argue.

"Thank you!" she called before peeling away. Across the courtyard, a raised platform of stone lead to the door. She did not bother with the stairs, instead leaping up on a barrel beside the construct and vaulting upwards. In the fraction of a heartbeat, she glanced back and saw Aveth plunge into the fray, eyes gleaming as he snarled. His blade cut across through two of the men before they could draw their weapons. The din of combat and Aveth's rage-filled cry followed her as she made for the keep's massive doors. Nova unsheathed her blade in a silver arc, ready to kill any fool she saw. There was no remorse within her. Not now. This was war. All that mattered was her queen.

Her feet did not slow as she threw open the door with a thunderous crash.

"Lucinda!" she cried into the space beyond.

She caught movement as a trio of warriors jumped at the sudden sound. They stood in a wide hall that opened into a kitchen. Nova hardly noticed as she cut the nearest man's head from his body, barely stopping her blade before it collided with the wall. She kept her sword poised as she pushed forward, aiming a thrust for her next opponent. He tried to dodge backwards, but overbalanced and fell to the floor. Nova glared at him with disgust. Some warrior.

She advanced, intent on sending him to whatever divine he held dear. The man beside him intervened, lunging into the strike with his shield and knocking her blade away. He followed up quickly, lashing out with the bastion. Nova loosed a pained cry as the shield slammed into the side of her face, sending her staggering backwards. Her cheekbone burned as pain tore through it, but her snarl did not falter.

Her opponent held his shield ready, blocking a good portion of the hall as his fellow returned to his feet. He'd found time to draw a sword with his shield too. Nova growled as frustration burned in her veins. She could not get around him in such confines. An evil smile crossed her face as she let her eyes glow red. He faltered for a moment, the metal bulwark dropping a fraction as he stepped back.

It was all she needed.

Before he could recover, she shot forward, reaching over his shield with a hand cloaked in red magic. She grabbed his face roughly, his stubbly chin in her hand.

An inhuman scream tore from his mouth, reverberating though the halls. He scrambled away, wheeling around and ramming into his ally in the process. The other man fell back to the stones with a violent swear, but the shield bearer was already sprinting through the kitchen beyond, screaming all the while.

Nova never lost her wicked smile. The first spell she'd ever learned of Illusion magic? Inspiring abject terror in any other being. She'd never regretted it either. A dog needed fangs, after all.

She plunged her sword into the prone man's face before either of them could blink. He screamed, but it was a gurgled, suffocated sound as blood from his shattered skull flowed into his mouth. His hands dropped the dagger he'd drawn at some point, grabbing for her sword in a foolish effort fueled by primal pain. She snatched up his weapon in her free hand and jerked her sword free, eliciting another gargle of agony. Still holding her sword, she grabbed for as much of his hair as she could and heaved him up before putting the dagger to his throat and slicing open the soft flesh. She dropped him to the floor in a muddled heap, sparing him no further thought and casting his weapon away. Nothing would save him now.

A raven-haired man appeared in the doorway, his sword at the ready. Yet as he caught sight of her crimson eyes and blood spattered features, he hesitated.

"What are you?" he breathed, almost unaware that he'd spoken.

Nova flashed a wolfish leer.

"The mongrel dog!" she roared, lifting her blade. She charged, a war cry tearing from her lips.

* * *

Quintillius leapt in his chair as the first screams rang through the fort, spilling some of his wine in the process.

"What is going on?" he demanded. The pair of guards by the door hastened into the hall, only to return a moment later and bolt it shut.

"We're under attack sir," a gravely voiced male replied.

Quintillius almost asked by whom, but he knew the answer to that, didn't he? He leaned back into his chair with a scowl. "Go and deal with it."

The men hesitated. Quintillius glared in pointed reminder of what happened to disobedient hirelings. They unlocked the door and stepped out quickly. He motioned the two men standing silently at his back. They moved to the door and locked it, taking up positions on either side. Quintillius sighed in relief. Silent obedience. Was there anything more beautiful?

He strode to the window, equally locked, and wondered briefly if he would be able to see the interlopers from his new office. He wouldn't mind catching a glimpse of that warrior in her sleek armor… Ah, but it was too dark, and he was likely too high up.

Screams resounded, closer this time. He took another sip of wine. What was taking those fools so long to take care of two simple pests? He shifted on his feet, clutching at his crimson doublet.

The ring of steel on steel echoed through the hall, raising the hair on the back of his neck. He forced himself to breathe.

"Douse the fire," Quintillius hissed in a hushed voice. He set down his glass as he moved to the lantern on his desk and snuffed its warm light, doing the same to the two along the walls. A hiss sputtered from the hearth as water collided with crackling flames. The guard threw another bucket on the embers, silencing the sound and plunging them into darkness. Quintillius was glad, and not even the slightest bit perturbed at the sloshing mass that washed back onto his expensive rug. He'd replace it, it didn't matter.

His lips worked as he swallowed. Now whoever was out there would move on, thinking no one was in here. It was perfect. Besides, the door was locked. They couldn't get in. He nodded several times to himself before wishing he'd kept hold of his wine glass.

In the gloomy dark, he could hardly see his hand before his face. Still, he felt his way around his desk carefully, searching for that sweet drink. It would warm him, relax him. Indeed, it suddenly felt colder, like a draft blew through the room. Likely the lack of the fire. Yes. Certainly.

There was a heavy thud. Quintillius froze. Gods… that was close. It almost sounded like it was… inside the room. Another followed on its heels and he paled in the dark. Morris, that was clumsy Morris. He'd tripped and-

Quintillius's eyes flew wide as a hand clapped over his mouth. Searing agony cut a swath across his throat as warm wetness washed down his chest.

"Do you want to know the first thing I learned to do when I escaped life as a slave?" Aveth asked, a cold calm suffusing his voice. "How to pick a lock."

Quintillius grabbed for him, intent to pluck the eyes from the man's head if it was the last thing he did. Aveth threw him to the ground without pity. He needed nothing but the moonlight through the window as he drew his sword and took aim, cutting the monster's head from his body.

As it turned out, the last thing Quintillius Black did in his life was stare vacantly.

Aveth stared back for a moment, letting his racing heart catch up to his calm breaths. It was done. He had done it. The monster was dead. It wasn't the one that had caged him, stolen so much from him… but this…. He'd cut off the head. Quite literally. This monster couldn't harm anyone anymore.

In the darkness, Aveth managed a hesitant, shaking laugh. The sound morphed into a shuddering breath, then a second, until there was silence. Yet his eyes did not stray from the bleeding corpse for an age. He took another breath and reminded himself of two simple facts.

He was free now.

And Nova needed him.

Aveth turned on his heel, glancing briefly to the now slightly ajar window and offering a wan smirk. He unlocked the door and stepped into the hall. A hole in the wall to his left let more frosty air breeze across a field of lifeless bodies. He saluted the opening with his thanks to his ancestors. Turned out it _was_ just big enough to fit through….

He trotted away, following the sounds of distant combat.

* * *

Nova grimaced as blood sprayed in an arc. Her opponent fell to the ground, twitching. She pushed on, running frenetically through the halls. Ancestors curse it all! Where were the cells? There had to be cells. Of course there were cells!

"Lucinda!" she called again. Belatedly, her mind pointed out that she had a different name now. She cast aside it and met her next opponent with a clang as their swords collided.

A familiar form appeared at the end of the hall and sprinted towards them on silent feet. Her opponent cried out as his back arched before Aveth's hands grabbed his head from behind and snapped his neck with a violent twist. The body crumpled into a heap.

Aveth retrieved his dagger from the spine of the soon-to-be corpse and pointed down a hall. "That way," he said, pointing as he drew his sword anew. "I'll clear the rest."

"Thank you!" she managed.

Nova wheeled and sprinted, her steps reverberating like cracks of a whip. Her arms wept blood from a handful of cuts, yet she hardly gave them a thought. She dashed around a corner to find a bosmer with brown hair, a bow across his back, and a gruesome helmet that looked like it had been fashioned from a skull. He started as he saw her, drawing a dagger with a vile glare. Nova didn't care. Let him try. She had to get to her lov- queen. Her queen.

She lifted her blade in two hands and cleaved downward, a wild, mindless attack. All she wanted was for every one of these shadow-cursed fools to get out of her blasted way! It met his shoulder with a splintering crack as his collarbone shattered under the force. He screamed and dropped his blade. She repeated the attack twice more with a fierce cry until his screams halted and he was a motionless heap on the floor. Nova stabbed into the base of his skull just for good measure.

No one in this place was ever getting back up.

She continued down the hall, her queen's name tearing from her lips again of its own volition. A wooden door stood sentinel in her path, miserably locked as she tugged. Nova glared at it, brought up her leg, and kicked. Reina's face drifted through her mind, that sweet smile, those warm, compassionate eyes… and the tender touch of those hands. Nova kicked again, harder this time. Ancestors, let her be safe.

* * *

Reina sat in the small cell, arms holding tightly to one another. She shut her eyes as an unconquerable despair built in her bones. She was never going to see her father again. She would never see the sun nor the stars… nor the sea.

_Lucinda!_

The faint cry echoed into her ears. Reina stood slowly, eyes wide. Her arms freed themselves to clutch the bars of their own accord.

"Nova?" she whispered, a desperate, pleading hope blooming within her. Screams echoed from above, punctuated by a fearsome roar.

_Lucinda!_

Reina's gaze went glassy as she found herself somewhere far away. It felt like another lifetime. _She stood on a terrace overlooking the sea. A stormy sky devoured the sunset in a __bleak d__e__arth of color__ as thunder cracked and boomed. She __reveled in__ it all, nature's grand majesty. Beside her stood Nova. Ah, but that was always the case, wasn't it? She smiled softly up at the warrior._

_ "You can go back into the room," she offered as the first drops of rain began to fall._

_ "My place is by your side," Nova replied._

_ The words were said as a statement of fact, a steadfast oath. It made her smile wider. She moved closer and leaned calmly against the stalwart, black-armored bastion as she waited for the storm._

Reina blinked, staggering back as an explosion of splintering wood resounded through the underground.

* * *

The door burst open in a satisfying shower of splinters. Nova stormed into the lower rooms, a myriad of minute cells meeting her eyes. She pressed forward, desperately searching the space.

"Nova!" Reina cried, reaching a hand through the bars.

Nova rushed to her and clasped it fast, pressing her cheek against it.

"Lucin-" she bit off the name, lifting her head. "Reina. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she assured. But she bit her lip as she saw the cuts and gashes along Nova's arms, along with the garish, welting bruise across her cheek. "But you're..."

"It's nothing," Nova dismissed. She did not fight the urge as she reached though the bars and cupped the woman's freckled cheek, silently pleased as Reina leaned into her touch. "I'm just… so glad I found you." The warrior loosed a shaky breath and glanced away, noting a set of keys dangling near the door in a no doubt taunting display. Nova leapt over to them and snatched them up, subtly wiping at her eyes. She turned back, plunging the series of keys into the cell's lock. The third produced a click before the door swung free. Reina leapt out and shivered with relief.

"Let's get you out of here," Nova began only to be cut off as Reina threw her arms around her waist and pressed her face into the crook of the warrior's neck.

"Thank you," Reina managed.

Nova gaped for but a moment, then smiled and returned the embrace fiercely, running a hand over the woman's somewhat tangled, golden hair. Nova saw her own arm and winced. She was probably getting blood all over her, but Reina gave no complaint. After a heartbeat, Reina reluctantly released her hold and stepped back. She trotted away down the line of cells, searching each as she passed.

"Reina!" Nova called, hurrying to catch up. "The way out is in the other direction."

"He took the others," was all the woman said. She came to the last two cells in the short hall. Three sets of eyes stared back at her with varying mixtures of fear and hope. "It's alright, we're getting out of here!" Reina promised. Nova passed her the keys and kept watch as the young women shuffled out, embracing Reina in turn before huddling together beside her. She gave a nod to the warrior, signaling they were ready.

"Stay close to me," Nova cautioned.

Reina nodded and clung to Nova's free arm. The warrior blinked, looked to her arm and then away, hiding her smile with a small shake of her head. Not quite what she'd had in mind, but alright. Their path out was already cleared, and Aveth would see to any stragglers, so she didn't _technically_ need that arm free.

Their steps were the only sound as they made their way past carved bodies and pools of blood. Reina flinched at the sight, but did not look away. Nova guided them unerringly through the halls, glancing back at her wards often as she scanned each shadow, making slow but steady progress. Her jaw was rigid by the time they reached the front door, still open. She stepped out, expecting to find an ambush on the other side.

There was nothing but the night.

The trio of young women behind them pushed forward, dashing out with elated cries. The joy of freedom made them reckless, running though the archway toward the light of the nearby city. At least one of them picked up a fallen weapon as she passed, Nova noted with a measure of approval. Her gaze caught movement up on the ramparts. Aveth's form was barely visible against the black sky as he offered a single nod of assurance, and Nova sheathed her blade. It was done. There were none left. Aveth dropped to the ground before following in the shadow of the fleeing women, their unseen guardian. Nova smiled softly.

Reina looked up to the stars, their pinpricks of light so welcoming, she had no words for it. Fear clung to her like sap on her skin, but… it was over now, wasn't it. Nova… had found her. Just like she'd known she would. The thought broke her false calm.

There, in the courtyard beneath the open sky, Reina's eyes misted. She leaned her head forward and set it on Nova's shoulder. The warrior stiffened in surprise and looked back. Slowly, she turned and wrapped first one, then another arm around Reina, drawing her close.

"It's alright," Nova soothed. "You're safe now."

Reina could only make a feeble attempt at a nod, her head buried in the crook of the warrior's neck. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound floating through the silent courtyard was her stifled sobs. Reina clung to the woman tightly, unable to voice the fear that gripped her.

"They can't hurt you anymore," Nova said, as if reading her mind. "I won't let anyone hurt you." The promise slipped from her lips of its own accord. But she did not protest it. They remained there for what felt like an age. Nova stood beside her without complaint, stroking Reina's pale hair until her sobs finally faded.

* * *

Reina was tucked under her heavy quilt, her father's arms wrapped around her as he sat on her bedside.

"My sweet girl," George breathed, head pressed against hers. "It's alright now."

Reina held to him with equal fervor as her eyes drifted to the silent form of the black armored warrior. Nova had not said a word since relaying the story to George, and Aveth had excused himself, vanishing shortly afterward. Reina had feared Nova would follow, but instead she had only ducked out long enough to cleanse the blood from her arms and returned as a silent sentinel. Reina was far more relieved than she cared to admit.

"Dad?" she asked softly, too softly. She cleared her throat and forced strength to her words.

"Yes?" he returned, running a strong, calloused hand across her arm.

"Will you… sit with me? At least until I fall asleep?"

George gripped her hand tightly and placed a kiss on her head.

"I'll stay right here, all night," he promised.

They remained like that for a time before George's eyes turned to the warrior. His mouth formed a thin line, a mental sigh hissing from him. Maybe, just maybe, she'd earned a moment with Reina. A very small one. His mind unhelpfully reminded him they'd had the whole way back. He glowered at the thought until it shriveled and died. At last, he spoke again. "I've got to grab some things from my room. Would you stay with her? It might… be a moment."

Nova tried her best not to gape and failed miserably, her stoic demeanor decimated by the statement and the meaning behind it. A soft smile touched her face. "Of course." She gave a single nod that George returned as he made for the door. His lip turned upward in a half-smirk, but his eyes still held a father's warning. Nova resisted the urge to chuckle as he disappeared into the hall.

The warrior moved to the bed and sat on the edge.

"Sorry about him," Reina murmured a smile in her weary eyes.

"Don't worry about it. You're lucky to have a father that cares. I like to think mine would have threatened to chop off limbs," she said with a smirk. It faltered as Reina's gaze turned mournful.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It isn't fair that he was taken from you when you were still so young."

Nova froze, wide-eyed. Fragmented questions spiraled in her mind, only allowing her a single word.

"What?"

"I…" Reina blinked, frowning. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." She ran a hand over her face.

Nova did. She opened her mouth and shut it twice before finally managing to speak.

"You've… had a long day," she deflected. Spirits of the Ancestors, neither of them were ready for that conversation yet. Instead, Nova set her hand atop Reina's. "Did they hurt you?" she asked softly.

Reina lifted a hand to the back of her head, mercifully mended by Healer Lee. The outward signs of her ordeal were gone. Yet somehow, it didn't feel like it was really over. She took a deep breath, and resolved to give it time, to conquer it day by day. Her eyes lifted, noting Nova still waiting for an answer.

"No," she shook her head. "But Miranda and Raven… Vara..."

"They are well," Nova offered. "Aveth saw them home."

Reina breathed a sigh of relief.

Nova ran her free hand through her haggard hair and regretted the action as her fingers caught in a knot of matted blood. At length she lowered her hand and sighed.

"Reina? If or when you want to talk about it, I'm here," she offered, squeezing the woman's fingers.

"Thank you," she replied with a soft smile. In the back of her mind, there was an echo of Nova's voice: _'My place is by your side. I will always protect you.'_ They'd been so much younger then. Reina's weary mind drifted farther, like a boat carried from shore. It watched the warrior's familiar eyes, all in an entirely unfamiliar setting…. She let herself sink deeper into the tide.

George returned without knocking. His arms held a small assortment of items, including a pillow and blanket.

Reina did not let go of Nova's hand. Her eyes stared vacantly as she leaned back with a small smile.

"You just had to return the favor, didn't you?" she whispered.

"Hm?" Nova blinked.

"Last time, I was the one that saved you," she murmured with a chuckle.

Nova stiffened, unable to even draw breath. Her wide eyes turned slowly to George who looked at her with a querying gaze. She only nodded once, stiffly.

His face pulled into a frown.

"Sleep honey," he said, patting her shoulder. "You've had a long day."

"But to be fair," Reina continued as if she hadn't heard, opening her eyes to stare directly at Nova. "You were a lot smaller then. But I guess... I was too."

Nova had to try several times before she was able to speak. Indeed, she'd been the human equivalent of eleven years old when her parents had been slain, and Lucinda just a few years older.

"You've… you've had a long day," Nova stammered, repeating the innkeeper's words. "You should... get some rest."

Nova made to rise, but Reina clung to her hand in an iron grip.

"I'm sorry we weren't in time to save them," Reina murmured.

Nova's throat refused to let air into her lungs. She felt herself fall back to the bed with a thump. Her eyes stared into Reina's weary ones. She wanted to say it wasn't anyone's fault, to say that there was nothing anyone could have done to save them all those centuries ago, but the words wouldn't come.

George gave a heavy sigh.

"Reina, sweetie," he said with a gentle firmness. "Nova and I need to go downstairs for a little bit."

Nova managed not to wince. She was definitely going to end up in a stew. Still…

"Aveth is right outside," she said, extracting herself carefully and standing. "We'll leave the door cracked."

Reina's mouth tensed. The fog threading through her mind billowed away as fear sent her heart racing. Still, she forced a nod, rubbing at her eyes as if rising from a deep sleep.

Nova made for the door, paused and glanced back at George. When he did not move, she stepped into the hall and shut the door behind her, giving them privacy.

Reina's mouth twitched in the silence. She hadn't missed their look, and didn't envy the warrior the talk she knew was coming. Oh she was going to owe Nova an apology for that one…. But if it was any consolation, she herself would get a similar conversation. She wasn't about to sit there waiting for it either, determined instead to simply stare the dragon in the face.

"She saved me," Reina said pointedly, then her voice softened. "I really like her, Dad."

George's face tensed like he'd eaten something sour before he sighed, covering her hand with his own.

"I know sweetie," he muttered. "Doesn't mean I don't want to get the shovel." The words were softened by a chuckle at the end.

"Dad!" she protested.

"Just doing my job," he insisted giving her his best wolfish grin.

Reina rolled her eyes before silence drifted between them.

"I know you'll think it's stupid," she said softly. "But… I feel like I really know her. Like… I've known her for a long time."

"Get some rest," he deflected, placing a kiss on her forehead. He stood and moved to the door.

"Dad?" Reina called after him.

He turned and she met him with a hard stare.

"No knives."

He huffed out a breath.

"No promises."

* * *

George drank his ale.

Nova sipped her tea.

Neither one blinked.

Instead, they stared at one another across the bar's polished counter.

"So you really think she's your queen, born again?" he asked softly, a sigh hidden behind his words.

"Yes, I do," Nova replied, steadfastly. "More and more each day."

"Reina is my daughter," George said with pointed annunciation on each word.

"I am well aware," Nova replied, folding her arms atop one another on the counter's gleaming surface.

She gripped her tea tightly in one hand, lowering her eyes to stare into the opaque liquid. George watched her a moment, fingers drumming on the countertop.

"And what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?" he asked.

Nova's eyes snapped wide. Oh that was _not_ a question she wanted to answer! Well at least she hadn't been taking a sip of her tea at the time…

"Nova," he pressed, his deep voice calm, yet unyielding. "Make it plain to me. And do me the courtesy of looking at me."

She took a steadying breath.

"I want to take her back to the place she belongs," the warrior deflected in a whisper.

George slapped his hand on the bar, not so much in anger as a means to draw her attention.

"No, no, not vague nonsense. What happens after you get to that island of yours?"

Nova's lips turned down into a thoughtful frown. Such knowledge was not to be given to Outlanders, but…

"We will take her to the Senge Stones to be tested. Then-"

"Senge Stones?" George interrupted.

"A place where our Ancestors' power gathers," Nova dismissed with a wave, then continued. "Then the Ancestors will look upon her, see within her soul. They will tell us irrefutably if she is indeed Lucinda."

"So a bunch of dead people are going to tell you?" he scoffed, lifting an eyebrow as he took a drink of his ale.

"They are more than bones in soil," she refuted with a small smile. "They guide us, and have kept us safe from both the outside world and the Enemy that has prowled our shores for ages."

"Sounds… important," he tried.

Nova gave a serious nod.

"Their magic protects us, but it is our monarchs that act as a focus, an amplifier for their energies, binding those who have passed on to the physical world. Without that bond, our protections are but a fraction of the strength they would normally be," Nova admitted. The Ancestors were going to strike her with lightning for telling an Outlander such details, then drop a boat on her for good measure. But she needed him to understand. "Over the last two decades or so, our enemies have stirred, far beyond their usual roaming. I fear they're gathering for an attack."

George pursed his lips. He considered her words in silence for a long moment before returning to the former topic.

"So, enlighten me. What happens if she really is your queen?"

"Then she will be crowned," Nova huffed, as if the answer were obvious.

"And if she doesn't want to be a queen? Or if she isn't the person you're looking for?" George asked, voice rising.

Nova paused and took a deep breath, staring again at her tea.

"Then I will return her to you myself," came the answer. Spirits, it tasted like ash on her tongue.

"So you'd just walk away," George sighed. "And you'd really be satisfied with that?"

"No," she growled through clenched teeth before she could stop it. She sighed inwardly at herself. There was no point in not saying it now. "I know it's her, George. My heart tells me." Oh… dear. She hadn't meant to say that last part. Nova's eyes flicked back up to see what damage she'd done.

George's eyes bored into hers as a thin smile formed on his lips.

"So I'll ask again," he said. "What are _your_ intentions with my daughter?"

Nova managed not to flinch. Or turn scarlet. But then again, she supposed she'd been dodging that particular arrow for centuries now…. The words flowed so easily from her mouth, and yet they left such a vile taste.

"I am her guardian. I will stand by her side and protect her with my life, such is my purpose."

"Assuming she's your queen," he said, eyes narrowing slightly.

This again? Nova's irritation rose to the surface and snapped out of its own accord.

"What she said back there? It was of my parents' deaths. No one beyond the borders of my home knows that."

"That's your bias coloring her words," George countered with a wave of his hand, but uncertainty coiled behind his bravado.

Nova ground her teeth together, but did not argue the point. Instead, she asked, "Will you let me take her to be tested or not?"

"You give me one good reason why I should," he replied in a surprisingly level tone.

Nova closed her eyes as her chest constricted painfully.

"If I tell you, it must remain secret. Even from her," she stated.

George folded his arms, about to protest, but found himself nodding, if only to humor the woman and end the discussion.

"Fine," he voiced, realizing she could not see him.

Nova took a steadying breath… and lifted her ruby eyes to his stunned stare. George gasped, but Nova allowed him no time to process what he was seeing.

"Queen Lucinda was everything to me. I would do anything for her. And I have searched for so cursedly long," the weary words whispered. "I cannot lose her again. Please. Let her return with me to Aelyria. And I promise you, as I promised her centuries ago: I will defend her with my life."

George's face tensed in a frown. He swallowed hard and took a calming breath.

"You understand that I'm skeptical, at best?" he said.

"Yes."

"And that I'm not letting my daughter go to any far-flung place without me?"

"That thought had crossed my mind," she quipped dryly.

Silence dragged grating claws between them.

"On one condition," George said, his voice unyielding.

Nova did not dare to hope, barely keeping her face neutral as she watched him carefully.

"This test you have… can it be administered without her knowing what it is?"

Nova's ruby eyes narrowed to mere slits.

"Yes," she admitted hesitantly. "But-"

"Then I'd like you to refrain from telling her your suspicions," George interjected.

"I will not lie to her," Nova refused. Spirits, there were so many secrets that weighed her down already.

"I'm not asking you to. Just… think about it for a moment. If someone came up to you and told you you were the queen of some long-forgotten people who were waiting for you to return to them, wouldn't that be wondrous?"

"Not really," Nova grimaced.

George ignored that.

"If what you say is true… There's a chance that she is and a chance that she isn't. It would be too cruel to fill her head with those kinds of thoughts only to find out you were wrong."

Nova looked down yet again at her steaming tea. Doubt sprouted in the back of her mind, creeping up in tendrils to jab at her certainty.

"I… suppose you have a point," Nova admitted, biting her lip.

"So for now," George offered with a sigh, "just tell her you're going to take her to see the ocean. It'll be a… a family vacation for us," he finished with a vigorous nod. "Yes. Yes that will do."

"Alright. If I must," Nova grudgingly agreed, pushing away her doubts. He made a compelling argument. Even if she didn't like it. And he wouldn't agree otherwise….

"Now hide those damn things before someone walks in here," George insisted.

Nova chuckled slightly and replaced her spell, returning her eyes to their natural blue.

"Thank you, George," she whispered, the wealth of gratitude brimming in those words softening the man's stiff shoulders as he stood.

"Don't thank me," he scoffed. "I've become a fool in my old age."

Nova drained the last of her tea and slid from her stool. She took all of two steps before George's voice stopped her and had her turning to face him once more.

"Nova. If I find bite marks on her neck, I'll bury you."

Her eyes went wide but she managed a nervous chuckle before taking several hasty steps back.

"Not that kind of vampire," she assuaged.

"Oh I wasn't talking about that," George refuted grimly.

Nova blushed three shades past crimson and kept going. Aaand it was definitely time to be anywhere but here!

"G-goodnight, George," Nova stammered before sprinting up the main staircase.

"Mm hm," he grumbled, picking up the empty mug along with his ale as he watched her vanish. They would take tomorrow to rest and pack, then set out for Divines-knew-where the day after. George stowed the dishes for later and made his way back up the kitchen stairs and into Reina's room, wondering what kind of nonsense-believing fool he'd become along the way.

A/N: This is definitely my favorite chapter, personally. Finally got to the fort! Also sassy George is best George.

Does anyone else just randomly want to kick down a door? Ever? Just me? Well then, I'll just sit back down... ;D


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Island

Reina rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen, following the sound of voices. As her feet hit the last stair, she caught sight of a slight man with vibrant black hair and clean shaven face standing beside her father. Despite his smaller frame, he carried himself with a confident, and somewhat dangerous air.

"Uncle Hrok!" she cried, hurrying forward and flinging her arms around him.

"Hey pup," his surprisingly deep voice rasped. "How you been?"

"Good!" she professed.

His dark green eyes crinkled with a smile. "That's what I like to hear."

"Why are you here?" she had to wonder.

Hrok's eyes flicked to George.

"Big brother here wants me to look after things while you two go off and have a grand time without me," he answered dramatically. "But apparently his little apprentice Luke will be here to keep _me_ out of trouble."

"Impossible," Reina asserted, a smirk coiling her lips.

"Damn right," Hrok smirked.

"Language," George scolded.

"Stop being such a big brother," Hrok scoffed, rolling his eyes.

George sighed in exasperation, then changed the subject if only to preserve his sanity.

"So remember there's a man upstairs who needs looking after. Just make sure he eats, he's well enough to apply his own medicine now."

"Drag him to the temple and leave him there, got it," Hrok nodded.

George elbowed him in the ribs.

"Yeah, yeah," Hrok grumbled. "I got it. You only told me three times." He turned back to Reina with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "The things I put up with."

"Uh-huh," George scoffed.

Hrok's eyes watched as a dunmer and a half-elf entered the kitchen from the common room. He studied them for all of two heartbeats before deciding he didn't care. They walked to join George as Reina hefted a pack onto her shoulder.

George handed out a series of small, wrapped bundles.

"Breakfast on the move today!" he announced.

They each thanked him in turn.

"And one for you," the innkeeper continued, handing one to his brother.

"I'd rather have an ale," he muttered, but accepted nonetheless.

"And re-"

"If you tell me to remember to lock the doors one more time, you're going to be eating this, and not pleasantly."

George chuckled and threw his arms around his brother in a crushing hug with a slap to the back.

"Oh for the love of-" Hrok rasped, fighting to free himself. "Let. Go."

George relented and stepped back.

"I am burning your inn to the ground," Hrok groused.

"Sure," George drawled, hefting his own pack.

"I mean it. Plenty of ale around here."

"Actually," the dunmer chimed. "It really doesn't burn as spectacularly as most people seem to think."

The half-elf beside him issued a soft strike to his arm.

"Not the time."

The dunmer shot her a wounded look.

Hrok loosed a long sigh that sounded far more like a growl.

George offered him a pat on the shoulder that the shorter man dodged and ushered his party out of his inn and down the cobbled road. It led them on down through the city and to a waiting carriage that would carry them to the sea.

* * *

The waves washed over her feet, cold and rippling. She flexed her toes, burying them deeper in the sand. It was strange… but exactly as she'd imagined it. Reina watched the undulating mass of gray-blue as the gentle roar of waves filled the air. She should join the others on the long-forgotten dock where their ship waited... They were probably eager to get underway. Indeed, she'd likely be sick of the waves after riding on them. But there was something… entirely magical about the sea.

Gentle fingers brushed her arm. She turned with eyes like a dreamer's. Nova looked back, neither perturbed by her tardiness nor confounded by her wonder. The warrior simply offered a soft, almost knowing smile.

"Come, Reina," she bid softly. "When we reach my home, you'll find its beauty even greater than this meager view." She paused for a moment, then gave a breathy chuckle. "And I will not dissuade you should you wish to spend the entire day along the shore."

Reina's serene stare shifted into a smile before she nodded. She followed the warrior back to a lone dock along the cold northeastern shore, her focus drifting between Nova's armored back and the sleek, elegant ship anchored near the dark sand. Crisp, triangular white sails on the tri-masted ship waited eagerly to catch the burgeoning wind.

Reina still couldn't help but stare as her father stood beside the captain. The sailor looked so different from anyone she'd seen, aside from Aveth. He was a tall elf, lithe and tan with long, brown hair that flashed red in the sun. Indeed, the majority of Nova's homeland was elven, so she'd said. Reina grinned privately and bit her lip, glancing to the woman. She was actually going to get to see Nova's home! Whatever had prompted her father to accept such an invitation, or Nova to offer it, she wasn't about to ask. Well… not yet at least.

She took a moment to don her boots before she stepped onto the dock. The old wood squeaked with their passage. The captain turned his eyes to them and Nova nodded her head once.

"Then let's be off," he replied in a surprisingly gentle tone as he nodded in return.

Reina could not hide her smile.

* * *

The ship pulled into a harbor made of a pale wood, worn smooth over countless centuries. Nova had to bite her lip as the crew worked to secure the ship before any could disembark. She was going to tear out of her own boots with the effort. She was finally home again! And this time she didn't have to leave it. This time… She turned to see Reina, wide-eyed and smiling as she stared. This time she had her queen with her.

She pulled her attention back to the dock and nearly jumped in surprise. There in the light of the afternoon sun was a single, solitary figure. His radiant golden hair hung neatly down to the small of his back while long, flowing robes adorned his frame in a gentle green. Nova wasted no more time, vaulting over the ship's rail and thudding dully onto the dock. Her steps resounded further as she rushed to meet the man and threw open her arms wide. He obliged with a smirk. She hugged him hard.

He leaned his taller frame obligingly, dipping his lips to her ear.

"A hug! From you? What have I done to deserve such a rarity?" He didn't wait for an answer, plunging on in the same breath. "Now, would you like to tell me why I received a letter from the captain's hapless hawk that says I magically have a niece now?"

He pulled back, holding her at arm's length with a merry smirk still playing on his features.

"It's a long story, Gabriel." she evaded.

"You're not getting any older," he quipped.

"Keep your voice down," she hissed, eyes narrowing though no one else was in earshot.

"Is she a candidate?" he asked, green eyes flicking to the ship before returning to her.

"I made a promise to her father. She can't know until after she is tested."

His eyes narrowed.

"That will make things difficult," he observed calmly.

"I know," she grumbled.

He released her and stepped back.

"Though now I see why my wayward, mainland-dwelling sister suddenly has offspring." Gabriel's smirk returned.

"Because if I'm seen bringing her, everyone will be able to guess why, and the ruse will be for naught," Nova nodded.

"Such a ruse won't last beyond the first Aelyrian's question, particularly if she's not able to know about it to maintain it," he said, shaking his head. "Let me handle this. I do this for a living," he added with a wink.

"Lie?" she smirked.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff.

"Now away with you. My authority can only keep the docks vacant for so long. There is a rowboat tied beyond," he gestured down the dock with a tilt of his head that sent his radiant hair shifting. "Take Aveth and be scarce. We will meet at the palace."

"I owe you, my friend," she breathed, relief and gratitude mingling in her words.

"Indeed," he chuckled.

Nova turned and made a single gesture to Aveth who nodded and dropped down beside her, following wordlessly as they made for the rowboat.

After a moment, Reina stepped onto the dock with George behind her. Her eyes followed Nova's retreating form, frowning.

"Fear not," Gabriel assured. "She has something to attend elsewhere, but she will rejoin us soon. For now, may I have the pleasure of escorting you through the city?" He placed his palm to his chest, then offered it to her.

Reina hesitated, glancing again toward Nova. George was not so silent.

"And you are?" he asked, taking a small step forward.

"Ah, how rude of me. I am Gabriel, friend to Nova… and steward of the Aelyrian palace."

"Steward?" Reina had to repeat, eyes widening. She wasn't entirely sure she was qualified to be talking to someone so important….

"Or regent, if you prefer. It's much the same, given my duties," he shrugged. "But I digress. Would you care to proceed?"

Reina bit her lip. She'd envisioned getting to see Nova's home _with_ Nova, but still… "Yes," she nodded emphatically. Almost belatedly, she looked to her father with a sheepish smile, hoping he would agree to her choice. She needn't have worried.

George clapped a hand to her shoulder and smiled, looking back to Gabriel. "What are we waiting for? I'm on vacation! What's your best dish here? I might have to learn to make it!"

"I cannot say, myself," Gabriel smiled. "But if you would deign to join us for dinner tonight, you might try some of them for yourself."

George gave a wolfish grin that said he would hardly miss it, though for the culinary adventure or the free meal, it was hard to tell.

"But first we should get our things," the innkeeper said.

"Your items will be taken to your rooms for you," Gabriel offered.

"Oh," George blinked. "Alright then." Well how was that for hospitality.

Gabriel tried not to smirk and failed as he led them from the dock along a short cobbled road that lead up a small rise.

"My friends, let me welcome you to Aelyria, Island of the Ancestors and City of Moonlight."

Reina stopped behind him and gasped. The city sprawled before her, the white stone of the buildings gleaming in the sun as a black metal trimmed their edges, devouring the shining light. Pointed arches mingled with crawling ivy and towering trees. Around it all ran a massive wall, of thick stone that climbed high into the air. Needle-like spires rose at intervals, the tips glowing a faint green. She squinted harder at them, but the source of the glow was a mystery. Reina snapped her stare back to the city. Black armored figures walked with an easy grace between robed individuals. Simpler garbs punctuated the mix, but each of the people bore pointed ears and wore their hair long in splendid shades between near-white and inky black.

"I am going to be the ugliest person in any room," Reina mused to herself under her breath. She paused for a moment, lips pursed in thought before finally adding, "I could get used to that."

Gabriel looked to her with a poorly veiled smile. Alright, so she hadn't said that quite as quietly as she'd thought….

"It's a beautiful city," she offered, hoping to distract him.

"You should see it in the moonlight," he replied with almost a sigh, then broke from his reverie and began to walk forward.

A trio of black armored solders stood abreast on the road blocking the way. On the other side of them was an elven man in brown robes. His calm demeanor was betrayed by his lips as they formed a thin line. As they approached, he lifted his voice.

"Gabriel. Would you care to tell me why I am barred from my own ship? I have preparations to make before we venture out."

"My apologies, Captain Serrel," Gabriel replied, bowing his head. "My motives were entirely selfish." He drew closer and the guards parted way before he leaned toward the man's ear. "I wished to greet my human friends here without fanfare. Our docks can be overwhelming with their activity. I wanted them to have a moment to adjust to the beauty of our city before subjecting them to a throng of people."

Serrel eyed him dubiously but eventually nodded. "Yes, I suppose I can understand. Aelyria is a glorious gem, and one to be savored." Then, Serrel's tone hardened. "But you're aware that all of this is painfully inconvenient, yes? Your knowledge of Outlanders outweighs mine, certainly, but this seems excessive."

Gabriel spread his hands in a hopeless gesture.

"Then I must apologize again."

Serrel stared for a time, but Gabriel did not flinch. The captain was no fool, but he had only two cares in his life: his ship and the sea. Once the obstruction to them was removed he would simply dismiss the event. But in gathering his crew to help him prepare his vessel, he would have to relate Gabriel's reasons. From there, the tale would spread. After all, on an island with little that changed, gossip was paramount to currency.

Serrel nodded once and brushed past them.

Gabriel breathed an internal sigh of relief. It paid to understand people. He motioned to his wards and they followed as he continued down the road. Reina couldn't help but notice the armored warriors followed them, keeping a respectful distance. They passed a bakery, then a blacksmith, the smell of bread and forge mingling in a strange, but not all together unappealing scent. Reina peered into the shops eagerly, but could not see much. Eyes looked back at her with equal curiosity.

"Why a wall?" George asked, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" Gabriel queried.

"You're on an island. What do you need a wall for?" he clarified.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Had Nova not told them? He smoothed his expression, his long, leisurely stride never missing a step. For the briefest moment, he pondered how much to tell them, but dismissed it. What ill could they truly do with such knowledge?

"There is an enemy that shares our shores. The wall was built by our first monarch. It radiates the divine protection of our Ancestors, keeping the monsters at bay."

Reina looked back, studying the wall as it stretched out a small distance into the sea. She frowned at it.

"The enemy cannot swim," he supplied, following her gaze. "They sink like stones in the water's embrace."

"This enemy of yours," George muttered. "It have a name?"

"They are the garm, chief among them is the Devourer. They are beasts of shadow that rally endlessly against the light."

"And I suppose your people are the great light?" George goaded with smirk.

Gabriel stopped and turned, his green eyes void of mirth. His voice dropped low, tinged with an edge of warning.

"Deep below the very stone you walk upon lies the Well of the Ancestors. There is no more sacred place you could find. It is their power that keeps us safe. But there must always be a balance. As their light grows, it casts a shadow, as all light does. The garm are that shadow, born with a hunger that can never be satisfied." His narrowed eyes almost dared a refute.

George hesitated, then gave an inward shrug. Best not to anger his host, even if all of this was a pack of hoarker dung. Let them have their nonsense. It didn't hurt him, after all. He nodded once in answer.

Gabriel's expression softened as he returned the gesture. A small crowd had paused to gather around them. He turned them, with a rueful smirk.

"Please do not regard my friends so," he implored.

Reina blinked as the people moved on, almost dejectedly. Their stares lingered on her for far longer than she would have liked. One woman dared take a step toward them, but a single look from their shepherd quickly dissuaded her.

They continued through the streets, passing a surprising number of craftsmen. A wood carver formed elegant miniature statues while beside him a woman tirelessly embroidered a pattern of leaves on the hem of a dress. One look at either of their products told her she would never be able to afford them in her lifetime. Reina's attention turned back as she entered the shadow of another wall, slightly shorter than the exterior bulwark. Beyond it stood an imposing structure built of the same white stone with black filigree crawling up like leafy vines along the surface. Its grand walls and sweeping towers reached toward the heavens with delicate bridges arching between them.

"Welcome to the Aelyrian palace," Gabriel offered as they passed under the wall's stone archway.

Reina would have said it resembled more of a castle, but who was she to argue?

The courtyard was empty of all but a handful of guards, all bearing a band of blue-green cloth around their upper arm. Reina let out a small sigh of relief. They at least weren't staring at her. Or... were they? She made a point not to look.

They approached a set of massive wooden double doors stained nearly black. The guards on either side moved to open them, almost without effort, then stood aside and dipped their heads slightly in respect. Gabriel swept past them, Reina and George in tow. They entered a grand room lined with columns. On the floor was a mural of a sweeping tree done in a crystalline blue. Above them, the high, arched roof resembled the night sky. There were strange pinpricks of light for the stars. Reina wondered at them until she turned her gaze downward once more and noticed milky, jagged crystals nested in sconces along the walls instead of torches. They glowed brightly, but gave no heat. Yet the entire room meant nothing as she spied the figure at the far end.

There stood Nova, her short black hair and equally dark armor a shadow against the gentle light. Behind her was Aveth, and even his crimson gaze was a welcome sight as it simmered in his charcoal skin.

Reina stood very still. She was _not_ going to run up and hug the woman. No. Absolutely not. That was not dignified. Also, her father was two steps behind her.

But maybe later.

Gabriel led them across the room in a whisper of robes. Reina followed and offered Nova a welcoming smile that the warrior returned as she and Aveth fell into line behind them. Reina desperately wanted to ask what she'd been doing, but bit her lip instead. That could wait until later too. They moved into another room just as grand with two curving stairways leading up. Gabriel motioned them on and they climbed before starting down a long hallway.

Reina stopped short, a shiver running down her spine. There on the wall was a mural done in a wealth of glimmering stones. The fine silhouette of a man stood with his shield raised, a milky white sword in his hand. Behind him was an army done in a marbled gray. A smoke filled sky loomed above them, clouds tinged with a fiery aura that she could almost swear gave off heat for the rich detail. Yet it was not what held her gaze. Opposite him stood something akin to a wolf, only standing almost as tall as the human. It's vile maw was open, burning like a furnace as slavering drool set smoke bubbling from the stone.

"That," Gabriel said, drawing up beside her slowly, "is the Devourer. A beast of shadow, its hunger is unending. It walks these shores with but one desire: to devour the light and all it has touched, even if that same blessed touch scalds its very skin."

Reina's hand clenched tightly as her mouth went dry. She took an involuntary step back. The air shifted behind her as Nova silently stepped close, fingers brushing her arm with the barest touch before receding. It made the sight of the abomination easier to bear. And indeed, why should she fear it? She had won, after all. Reina frowned at the errant thought but Gabriel spoke again.

"Across from him is Geledriel, the first to be anointed by our Ancestors. He plunged into battle against the beast and cast it back into the miserable pit from whence it crawled. The abomination cannot be killed, or at least we have not yet found the means, but his bravery allowed our people time to establish themselves. As such, the Ancestors named him the first king of Aelyria, gifting him and his people with their bright protection for all the ages to come."

Reina frowned. She was fairly sure there was more to it than that. But she supposed this was the condensed version for visitors. Still, she made a mental note to ask more later if she had the chance. Besides… she really didn't want to linger next to that _thing_.

"Let's move on," Nova insisted, looking to Gabriel and subtly nodding toward Reina.

He opened his mouth before shutting it and nodding in turn. "Of course."

They continued through the white halls, past a row of statues. Reina's eyes lingered on one of them, a horse with a flowing mane and a bony protrusion from the center of its forehead… almost like a delicate horn. The marble beast flanked a doorway. On the other side, there was another horse, this one with resplendent wings like a bird's, half folded as it reared.

The queen's chambers, Reina surmised. Or… king's, she amended. At least, it seemed a fitting place for such.

Gabriel took them past the statues, down a long hall, then another before he finally stopped.

"Your rooms are here," he said, gesturing. "You will find your belongings already inside."

Two doors stained a deep brown greeted them while more dotted the hall at regular intervals. George offered his thanks as he pushed open a door and stepped inside with an appreciative whistle. He paused and backtracked, looking to Reina.

"Looks like that one's yours," he said, ducking into the other room.

Reina hurried into the large space with an eager smile. Sure enough, her pack was neatly settled on the large bed, a pale green comforter adorning its expanse. A nightstand, dresser and desk served to complete the space, each of them stained so deeply brown they were all but black, accenting the pristine walls nigh perfectly. Their surfaces were carved with subtle grace, done in crested waves and pointed leaves. A tall bookshelf stood in the corner with myriad of tomes lining its shelves, and beside it was a cushioned chair.

"I am going to break something in here accidentally," Reina surmised with a grimace, "and then I'll have to spend the rest of my life working to pay for it." Still, she ran her hand along the dresser, tracing the alternating waves and leaves that flowed across the surface. It was far too beautiful to be used for something as common as holding clothing. She was definitely living out of her bag.

Back in the hallway, Gabriel turned to Nova.

"That went far more smoothly than I anticipated," he smiled.

Nova nodded twice, shifting from foot to foot.

"I rather expected chaos in the streets," the steward continued.

"Chaos?" Aveth chuckled. "I should think not. Your people are hardly so amusing."

Gabriel made to reply, but Nova cut him off.

"Will you fetch the crystal for the test?" she asked.

Gabriel blinked.

"Now? She hasn't even had time to unpack."

"There will be time for that later," Nova insisted.

"As there will be time for testing later," Gabriel replied evenly.

Nova's lips formed a thin like as she made to move past him.

Aveth caught her arm and jerked her back sharply.

She looked back, bewildered even as she glared.

He shifted his grip, setting a hand on her arm gently as he spoke in an equally soft tone.

"Gabriel is right. She just arrived," he stated. "You need to give her time to settle in first. The Senge Stones aren't going anywhere and neither is she. Let her spend time on the shore, for the Ancestors' sake." Nova's eyes turned mournful, and he dropped his voice low. "I know. You want to have her confirmed, anointed. It _will_ be done, have no doubts, but give Reina time." His ruby eyes did not waver, nor harden, they simply waited. At last, she relented under their weight with a heavy sigh.

"You're right. Tomorrow then."

"Perhaps in the mean time, you could seek out Trentus and ask him for a group of his warriors?" Gabriel offered.

Nova's eye twitched just before she fixed him with a look.

"Really. I never would have thought of that," she said dryly.

"Good thing I'm here," Gabriel replied, a smirk lighting his face.

"Don't you have steward things to do?" she grumbled.

His smirk shifted into a grin as he turned away without a word.

Reina and George stepped into the hall and walked toward them.

"This place is amazing," Reina offered.

Nova's dour mood evaporated at once.

"It is," she agreed softly. "I'm glad you like it."

"You promised I could go to the beach," Reina reminded in a breath.

George groaned.

"Reina, we just got off a boat. Which sails in the ocean. Haven't you had enough of it?"

"No," she replied cheerfully.

"Then let's be off," Nova said.

Aveth smirked and managed not to roll his eyes. Sure, anyone else got Grumpy Nova, but if Reina suggested it, suddenly it was the proper course of action.

"And… tomorrow..." Nova began, then hesitated, searching for the right words. "I'd like to show you somewhere even better." She almost moved to the wall and smacked her head against it for the weak words.

"Is it a secret beach that no one knows about?" Reina asked hopefully.

"No," Nova answered.

"Aw."

"But no less impressive," the warrior offered.

Aveth crept close to George and spoke softly.

"I'm afraid you must remain here tomorrow. We'll keep her safe, that's a promise."

George eyed him for a long moment, then nodded once.

"I'll assume you'll afford me a spectacular explanation later," he said through thin lips as he looked askance at the elf.

"Indeed," Aveth agreed. In fact, the answer was simple and boring. The man couldn't fight, and thus, was a liability on this journey.

George turned back to the women's conversation in time to hear Nova.

"Your father happens to have other plans."

Reina turned to him and he offered his best 'it's fine' smile.

"He will be free to exchange recipes with the head chef," Aveth supplied, fairly confident he could make that happen. If not, he'd send Nova to negotiate. Which generally meant a punch here and a head-bash there until she got what she wanted. Aveth couldn't help but smile.

"I can't miss out on that!" George agreed. "Unless you want to come along?"

"No, no, that's alright," Reina hurriedly stammered.

George gave a hapless shrug and a toothy grin.

"We'll be going outside the walls, so you're going to be wearing armor, and I won't hear otherwise," Nova stated.

"Is it dangerous?" Reina blinked.

"It can be," Nova nodded. "But I'll be there, and I'm going to ask my old teacher if he can spare a few of his blades to guard us. Better safe than dead."

Reina soured at the additions, but nodded.

"Now," Nova continued, "I believe it's time I made good on a promise. And it just so happens that I _do_ know a secluded spot on the beach." After all, the fewer people that saw them, the fewer that could ask questions.

Reina cheered.

* * *

Nova brushed the last strays of sand from her hair as she pushed through the stalwart door to the guard barracks only to find an equally stalwart man on the other side. His short-cropped, gray hair and neatly trimmed beard lent him a sagely appearance but did nothing to diminish the strength radiating from him. Still, his slightly rounded ears served to remind her that she was not the only one with a mixed heritage, nor how necessary her becoming… altered had been.

"Trentus," she blinked. For once it seemed the Ancestors were making life easy for her. But then again, finding the commander of the guard in the barracks wasn't exactly unexpected. "I need a favor."

"Good evening to you too," her former teacher chuckled.

"Sorry," she offered with a small sigh.

"It's fine, Nono," he assured. "What do you need?"

Nova's words halted as she scowled.

"First and foremost, for you to stop calling me that," she remarked wryly.

"Never. Happening," he replied, pulling on a set of leather gloves. "Second?"

"I..." This time she hesitated. He turned toward her with a searching gaze, giving her his full attention. She cast her eyes elsewhere, glancing around the moderate common area that functioned as both kitchen and dining area for the guard.

"Hm, must be pretty bad if you're hesitating," he observed.

"No, it's not that," Nova admitted, cursing herself. "I just..." She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I need you to assemble a team of warriors to accompany Reina and me to the Stones. I would ask you to be there as well."

Trentus blinked.

"Reina?"

Nova bit her lip. She cast another glance around the room to find it just as empty as before. Trentus had looked after her for years after her parents…. Now he remained something of a surrogate uncle. Him she could trust, even with this. Spirits, especially with this.

Nova took a breath and told him everything: her journey through the mainland, her failures, finding Reina, and her suspicions of who the woman truly was. Through it all, Trentus listened, his expression never changing. If he spoke, it was only to ask for clarification. At last Nova finished and fell silent.

"I see, so she is a candidate," he muttered thoughtfully, rubbing his beard.

"But Trentus…" Nova pursed her lips. "No one can know, not even Reina."

He blinked.

"But… surely we must celebrate this-"

"No," Nova shook her head quickly.

"I don't understand."

"I made a promise," she replied, then with a long sigh, told him about the conversation with George.

"I see," Trentus nodded with a sigh. "It makes sense. I can't say I'd do the same, but a father can only do his best." He paused a moment, frowning. "It's a shame though. Our people will want to celebrate her, wish her well, and watch her journey. They've been waiting for so long."

Nova stared at him with somber eyes and a wane smile.

"As have I," she replied softly. Trentus's wise eyes softened at that, but she continued. "When she is confirmed by the Ancestors, we will celebrate her like this island has never seen. Until then, she cannot know what we suspect."

He ran a hand through his hair roughly.

"Alright then," the captain at last agreed. "I'll gather those I trust to keep their silence. When do we leave?"

"On the morrow," she replied, then added softly. "Thank you Trentus."

"Sure, Nono," he nodded, tussling her hair.

"I am not a child," she growled, pushing away his hand.

Trentus only laughed.

* * *

A faint sigh whispered in the darkness, the tantalizing whisper beckoning as it sent its melody sweeping through his bones. Deep in the shadowed pit, he stirred. He gave no thought to the time that had passed. What was time to him, after all? The shadows that clustered around his form pulsed and swayed, prodding him to wake as he cracked a single eyelid to reveal a burning, crimson orb.

The song continued, its haunting notes ringing in his pricked ears. He pushed his massive form up, a wolfish shadow amid the clustered dark. A sigh huffed from his mouth, filling the space with light as a forge-like radiance welled from his throat. The air hissed and sizzled, the fiery light reflecting in the black waters of an endlessly deep pool beside him.

Again came the melody, but now… he began to understand. It was not a song.

No. It was _her_.

He remembered _her_. Searing, vile, blinding light. Agony unending that cast him back into the dark, shattering his body. It had taken so long to heal. Even now, he was a shell of his former glory. All because of that wretched bright mortal. A simmering growl roiled from him.

But it didn't matter. He would devour them all, in time. The bright mortals that polluted his island, and that vile, abominable source of all this wretched light. It was deep, deep below in the bones of the world. But so was he.

He shook his shadowed coat and listened to the not-song. It was different than he remembered. _She_ was different. It was not the steady chorus filled with strength, but an almost ethereal whisper, faint and haunting. There was only one answer.

She was not fully their queen yet. The bond between the Well and their former ruler hung by faint tendrils. They would take her to the Stones-That-Glowed to reforge that bond. Such predictable little beasts. He was not strong enough for the deed yet, but… His teeth gleamed as his lips peeled back in a wicked leer. That was what a pack was for. Something akin to a chuckle grated from his chest.

He threw back his head and howled.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry for the delay!

Chapter 11

Stone and Shadow

A single, pale crystal provided wane illumination as Gabriel sat at his desk. Crest of dawn hung promised on the horizon, fighting against the wall of mist dancing across the sea.

Gabriel lifted his gaze as his door swung open soundlessly. In stepped Nova, her face painted in sharp shadow. Behind her was Aveth, equally mute. She closed the door behind her in less than a heartbeat.

Gabriel set down the parchment in his hand and stood. His long strides crossed the room gracefully, pausing at a sconce mounted on the wall. He lifted a hand and turned the black metal without a sound, then pushed against the wall. It moved with a disorienting dearth of noise. Nova grimaced and tried not to think about Quintillius or his similar secret passages. The space revealed was hardly worth calling a closet. In it stood a single pedestal, atop which rested a glowing gem that welled with a pale, blue-green light.

"It's the perfect thing for remaining inconspicuous," Aveth muttered from the side of his mouth.

Nova cast him a scathing look in response.

"It only glows inside the walls," she drawled, as if speaking to a child. "Once we're out of the city, out of the protection of the Ancestor's and the Well, it will dim."

Aveth gave an ambiguous grunt.

Nova shook her head with a huffed breath and held out a hand to Gabriel.

"I'll take it to Trentus," she offered. "It'll be safe in his care."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed.

"If it's all the same to you, _I_ will take our sacred relic to Trentus, thank you," he insisted, wrapping the gem in a cloth. No bigger than his fist, he tucked it against his chest and cradled it as if fearful it would suddenly shatter.

Nova shrugged apathetically. It made no difference to her.

Gabriel bowed slightly and stepped from the room.

Nova and Aveth departed in his wake, making their way through the quiet halls.

"And now?" Aveth asked.

"Now I wake Reina and get her armored."

Aveth smirked, then grinned deviously, making a monumental effort to stifle a chuckle.

"What?" Nova groaned, almost afraid to ask.

"Nothing," he quickly dismissed.

"What," she pressed.

"It's just nice of you to help her get dressed is all."

"Armored!" she balked. "There's a dramatic difference!"

"Mm-hm."

Nova landed a punch squarely on his arm. Aveth only broke into hushed laughter and sprinted down a diverging hall.

* * *

A gentle light streamed in through the room's arched windows. Reina nestled deeper into her blankets before the memory of where she was wriggled to the surface and had her leaping out of bed. She stood there in a simple brown shirt and soft pants, wondering how long she would have to wait before Nova woke. If it was much longer, she was going to start running laps around the halls.

A knock at her door answered the question. Reina didn't have to wonder as she smiled and padded across the cold floor in bare feet to open the door.

Nova greeted her with a warm smile and soft "good morning". One hand clutched a cumbersome bag draped over her shoulder. Reina stepped aside, allowing the woman entry.

"Did I wake you?" Nova asked with a note of regret.

"Not at all," Reina dismissed cheerfully. "What's in the bag?" Hm, well she'd meant to wait at least two more sentences before blurting that….

Nova swung the bag down to the floor and pulled open the drawstring with a smirk.

"I told you you would be wearing armor," she stated. "I'll help you put it on." She drew out two pieces of clothing first and cast them aside before muttering: "What you're wearing will be fine for protecting your skin."

Reina's eyes scrunched. She assumed that made some sort of sense.

"Um, Nova?" she began. "I appreciate the effort, but I really don't think I could move in that." She gestured to the grim black armor Nova wore. "I mean, all it would take is one wrong step. After that, I'd topple over and never be able to get back up…"

Nova paused and looked up with a smirk.

"As much as I'd dearly love to encase you in the most protective armor we have, I'm aware of the fact." She punctuated her point by drawing out a leather cuirass, dyed the same charcoal as Aveth's own armor.

"Well that makes more sense," Reina chuckled sheepishly. She lifted her arms away from her sides as Nova began to work. They progressed faster than Reina thought possible, but she supposed she should have expected as much from a warrior used to armor.

Nova paused halfway through, her hands settled on Reina's hips as she turned the woman slightly, studying her work. Reina tried not to blush at the contact… and failed miserably if the warmth in her face was any indication.

"How does that feel?"

Nice. Quite nice, in fact. Oh… The armor. Right. She knew that. Of course. Reina cleared her throat before replying.

"Like I've been shoved into a barrel," she quipped. She moved her arms to and fro, but found each movement constricted as she pushed against the armor's hold.

Nova studied the pauldrons and bracers with a nod, then lifted a set of greaves to join them as she knelt. She reached out a hand to the woman's leg, then hesitated.

"Um… I'll need to attach this right about here…" she pointed to the inside of the other woman's thigh.

"It's fine," Reina assured. "It would take you far less time than trying to show me. I don't mind."

Nova nodded once before proceeding. She kept her focus locked on the armor piece, never letting it stray. Still, the mental image of herself marched up from the depths of her consciousness and grabbed her by the ear, issuing a painful twist for good measure as it glared. Nova glared back and gave an indignant protest. She would never take advantage of Reina like that. It would hardly be appropriate. Still, Nova's mental doppelganger lifted two fingers to her eyes, then turned them to point at her. Nova did the only rational thing she could and stuck out her tongue at it. It only let go as she finished tightening the last strap.

Nova reached over and pulled a final item from the bag's depths. It was a pair of boots, somewhat thicker than Reina's own. The barmaid frowned at them, but slipped her feet inside nonetheless. Great, now her poor feet were just as confined as the rest of her.

"How do you make moving in this look so easy?" Reina grimaced, trying to twist to and fro and finding each action woefully hampered.

"Believe it or not, you get used to it," Nova smiled. "It becomes a sort of second skin. In fact, it starts to feel odd without it."

"Right," Reina muttered with a frown of disbelief.

Nova just offered a smile and shrug in response.

Reina smiled back and changed the subject.

"So where are we actually going?"

Nova bit her lip and looked away.

"You'll see when we get there."

"Not fair!" Reina protested. She pressed further, but Nova would not elaborate as she pulled open the door and ushered Reina onward with an unhelpful, "You'll see soon enough." The words held a thread of sorrow that wrapped around them like a garrote. Reina bit her lip, but followed regardless.

* * *

Pine needles crunched under her boots as Nova strode beneath the dappled lighting of the forest canopy. Trentus walked some distance ahead, two soldiers on either side of him and one straggling almost lazily behind. Nova's eyes were not fooled for a moment. They were the bait that would flush anything unpleasant from the undergrowth and low branches that trailed the ground. A warrior flanked each side of her and Reina as they walked, two more ambling behind them, armed with massive bows.

Nova glowered inwardly. The number of soldiers who could be trusted to stay silent were miserably few. But, to their credit, none of them spared a glance in curiosity. If they watched their prospective queen, it was only to mark her position and change pace accordingly.

Aveth walked his own path to her right, keeping a close watch but a respectful distance. Nova offered him an unusually grateful smile. His silent presence did more to calm her than she cared to admit. He offered a warm smile and a nod in return, then went back to his vigil. She turned her eyes forward.

Trentus crested a small rise and surveyed their surroundings. He took a moment to readjust the straps on his circular shield before continuing. The soft song of birds wove through the crisp air, lending him a sort of peace for the sound. The birds would know of the garm's approach long before he did. If they fell silent, then he would truly worry. His hand slid to a pouch tightly tied to his belt, not for the first time. The weight of their sacred relic rested safely within, but still, he could not shake the image of garm bursting from the woods and sending it clattering down some long-forgotten ravine, never to be seen again. He shook his head, chastising his wandering mind as he strode up another small hill.

His eyes landed on a shadowy depression covered by a wide, fallen tree. He motioned to the warrior beside him, a woman with brown hair carefully contained in a braid and wrapped tightly into a bun. She nodded once and trotted toward it, black sword at the ready.

Trentus moved on down the hill, crunching fallen needles and the occasional pine cone as he went. The woman turned to him and gestured. Nothing was there. Trentus signaled her to rejoin them at once. Ancestors curse it and smite it for good measure. He'd have preferred a force at least three times this size for such a task. In fact… the entire royal guard would be an excellent idea. He shook his head and cast a glance back to their ward and Nova beside her. Against his better judgment, he nurtured the bud of hope in his chest. Maybe she would be the one, and the damnable beasts would no longer dare to harrow their walls. They were drawing closer, growing bolder over the decades. The wall and its gates were no longer enough to keep the dark tide from their city. Behind his eyes was a memory. In it, the city gates swung open to allow a hunting party out. They had made it to the treeline before being ambushed. A black wave had washed over them amid bloodied screams, yet one man had managed to turn and sprint for the city, garm close on his heels. Their archers had loosed a volley of arrows with keen precision, letting him make it back through the gates. But the still-pursuing garm had plunged after him, one after the other bursting into dark mist as they tried to cross under the archway.

Until one had succeed.

It had not paused, nor wondered, but latched onto the hunter's leg, snapping bone amid his raw scream. Trentus had ordered the gates to close, but still, the garm came, every third one managing to break through with almost pinpoint precision.

The garm had breached the city for the first time in centuries.

Trentus whispered a silent prayer. He was getting too blasted old to be issuing condolences to any more families. In fact, he should probably retire and live out his twilight years in peace. But doing so before Lucinda's return felt like leaving things unfinished, and that was not acceptable.

Nova watched her old mentor's strong stride for a moment, drawing strength from his presence before she turned back to scanning the trees. Beside her, Reina kept a determined pace, even with the cumbersome addition of armor.

"It's not much farther," she offered.

"I'm fine," the barmaid promised.

Nova offered a smile welling with pride at the woman's strength.

She turned as footsteps drew near to find a youthful elf with long, dark brown hair approaching.

"Pardon," he offered with a bow of his head. "But I would feel better if you were armed." The elf held out a simple black dagger, no doubt from his own belt.

"I… I couldn't..." Reina hesitated. "I don't even know how to..."

"Use it or not, as you see fit. But please," he finished by gently lifting her hand and placing the dagger in her palm. He dipped his head in another bow before backing away and returning to his former position.

Reina uttered her thanks, blinking in his wake before she tucked the dark dagger into her armor's belt.

Nova offered a rueful smile. Arming someone untrained in combat usually worked out poorly for friend rather than foe. But she had to agree with the elf. This felt infinitely better.

The group pressed on in silence for a time. Nova bit her lip as they wound further through the trees. Soon. Very soon.

Almost in answer to her thoughts, they broke through the tree line and a shuddering sigh left her. There before her amid a field of stubby grass stood a series of monolithic dark gray stones, weather worn and strewn with vines, but the sight always brought a warmth to her heart. The gray sentinels stood on a round area of flat stone that dipped ever so slightly toward the center like a shallow bowl. Near that center was a grate, though beyond catching rainwater, she could not speculate its purpose.

Reina froze, not daring to draw breath. These were old. Older than her, than Nova, than Nova's entire city. She her eyes trailed them each of them, then turned toward the center of it all. There resided a large statue much like the ones outside the queen's chambers. A charcoal gray horse with great, folded wings like a birds and that same delicate horn adorning its brow. The creature's carved eyes regarded them with a gentle wisdom as it lay with its legs tucked beneath it. Ethereal hair draped from its neck and pooled below its muzzle, forming a sort of table. They crossed the glade slowly.

"It's beautiful," Reina whispered, hardly daring to break the otherworldly peace surrounding the place.

Nova nodded once in answer. She eyed the pouch at Trentus's side, looked to the statue, then to Reina. She wanted to tell the other woman that no matter what happened here, she would always care for her. But she pushed the words down and gave a slight bow to the statue instead before stepping into the ring of stones. The other guards did the same.

Reina noticed, then shrugged and copied them. She walked toward the statue, unable to fight the compulsion. Her hand lifted of its own accord to touch the voluminous mane. Only the unfamiliar tug of her armor stopped her. She bit her lip and drew back her hand. It was probably best not to touch it, anyway.

"Trentus," Nova's voice called softly beside her. She held out her hand for something, beckoning at the same time. "Let's begin."

Reina frowned. "Begin what?"

But her words went unanswered as Trentus set something on the small platform made by the pooled mane. She peered around Nova to get a better look. A gem? Around her the guards backed away, threading themselves between the stones. Only Nova, Trentus, and Aveth remained.

Aveth waited silently, as per his usual, but an eagerness bubbled just below the surface. He would finally get to see what Nova's ancestors could do. Probably nothing half as impressive as the tales. From what he understood, the dormant gem either glowed here or it didn't, and if it did, things would get… interesting. Nothing compared to _his_ ancestors, of course, but still. He allowed himself a private smile and folded his arms.

Trentus motioned to Nova who grimaced. They should have brought Gabriel. He would have lent some artistry to the proceedings. She wasn't qualified for this! Should she say something fancy.

"What's going on?" Reina asked insistently, looking between them.

This time Nova met her eyes.

"Trust me?" she asked. When Reina pursed her lips and nodded once, albeit with furrowed brows, she continued. "Ancestors. We, your children call upon you."

Oh good, now it sounded like they were about to summon the dead. Nova cast a pleading look to Trentus, only to find his face was a fierce frown. She winced, expecting rebuke but instead he turned. His eyes scoured the treeline, mouth opening slowly.

_"__Archers!"_

The roar shattered the stillness, the undergrowth exploding with dark, lupine forms, their slavering jaws open as they streamed toward the stones. Arrows met them instantly as the two warriors with bows took up position and loosed their volley.

"Close ranks!" Trentus called, to instant obedience.

Nova pushed Reina toward the statue and drew her blade, a snarl dominating her face. Of all the times for these shadow-cursed monsters to rear their ugly heads! She took two strides forward and called back to Reina, "Stay behind me, I won't let them hurt you!"

Reina nodded, wide eyes never straying from the sprinting forms. She drew her borrowed dagger and readied herself, knuckles white as she gripped the hilt.

"You two, with me!" Trentus called. The soldiers followed him as he darted out of the circle of stones. For the briefest moment, Trentus's mind protested his actions. The Senge Stones, like their city wall, would protect them. Though not nearly to the same level of effect, it still felt like folly to leave them. But he could not let the beasts closer.

Trentus continued his charge, black blade in hand. He met a loping wolf and cut an arc for the thing's head. It danced away with something akin to a chuckle rumbling from its throat. He stabbed again to the same result. A blur of movement caught his eye as another form charged from his left, snapping jaws gnashing the air as it lunged. Trentus shifted his shield and bashed it in the head as he leapt backwards, sidestepping away.

An unearthly keening filled the air. His eyes flicked away just long enough to see a black form on the ground, it's scrambling feet haplessly trying to free itself from the sword plunged through its chest. It dissolved slowly into mist like sand carried away on the ocean's waves.

He had no more time to think as the harrowing forms closed in on him again, roiling growls burbling from their throats. A streaking hiss filled the air moments before an arrow impacted one the beasts. The wolf toppled from the force with a strident cry. The other garm flinched at the sound, giving Trentus all the opening he needed to stab the beast in its loathsome head. He wrenched his sword free, inky blood clinging to the blade.

He could not stay to watch the beast dissolve as another form ran past him. It made straight for one of his warriors whose back was to them both. Trentus leapt, plunging his blade into the space between the garm's shoulders. It wailed deafeningly, but did not die. Instead it struggled, turning its red, burning gaze onto Trentus. He felt the hatred from that stare before another black sword entered his vision and severed the beasts head clean. He exchanged a nod with his fellow warrior before returning to his task. Three more garm fell to him, their blood dissolving from his weapon slowly as they died, but it was not enough. Still more poured from the trees, and more beyond that circled around the stones.

"Fall back," he called calmly. They rejoined their group within the protective ring.

The garm wheeled around them with a cacophony of strident barks and ululating howls. One of them dared cross between the stones and stopped, its body spasming. An arrow found it instantly, dropping it to the ground before it dissolved.

The next garm was not so perturbed. It entered the ring with barely a shudder and continued its charge. Trentus glared at it, shifting his blade's position.

A scream filled the air.

Trentus winced, but did not turn his focus. He knew that scream. It was the last, agonized cry before death claimed a soul. There was nothing he could do.

Nova's eyes snapped from Trentus to the bloodied form on the ground to her right. Flailing, red hands were all she saw of the man as two black forms savaged his body. She charged, cutting across them both in a single, desperate arc. One fell, but the other shouldered the blow and danced back, baring bloodied fangs. It lunged for her.

Nova could not bring her blade to bear for another strike in time. Instead, she shifted it for a somewhat awkward block. The garm snarled as its gleaming teeth were foiled, only to be impaled by another sword. Aveth's eyes met hers for half a heartbeat before his long strides carried him away toward a trio of garm careening for them.

Another scream filled the air only to be abruptly silenced. Not a breath later, the clatter of armor and impact of a body on the smooth stone rang just as loudly.

Nova gritted her teeth and gripped her sword in both hands, leaping for her next opponent. In a single slash of her sword, its dark form toppled and dissolved. Another took its place with a series of barks. She made to stab only to find her leg pulled from under her. Nova's eyes widened as she saw the garm that had crept up beside her. Crushing pressure wrapped around her calf as its jaws clamped down. Everything within her screamed that she could not let herself fall to the ground. The beasts would be at her neck faster than she could stop them.

Nova threw herself toward the pulling garm. Her held leg wrenched at a painful angle, but she ignored it, reversing her grip on her blade and plunging it into the beast's wolfish neck, partially severing the spine and finishing the job with a twist of her sword.

* * *

Reina watched the milling black wolves with a mixture of horror and fascination. It was her nightmares come alive. The darkness made real. She shuddered, huddled close to the statue as she gripped her meager dagger. It offered little comfort, but she held it gratefully. Even if she would rather have a sword…

Her eyes watched Nova for a moment as a garm grabbed hold of her leg and tugged. Reina was sure she stopped breathing until Nova broke free of the vile thing's hold.

A growl sounded to her right, freezing the blood in her veins. She turned to find ruby eyes studying her. The garm watched her as it stalked around her with a smooth gait.

Reina's throat closed, cutting off her scream and indeed, her very breath as she whirled to point her dagger at the thing. She risked a glance around her only to find the others too far away to aid her, and similarly engaged. The growl came again. This time, her throat opened, letting her short, rapid breaths reign. She backed away and came flush against the statue.

No.

The single, calm word soothed her breathing, letting it flow easily.

No, her mind repeated. This was not the way. Reina's eyes narrowed, watching the garm intently. Her right foot shifted forward as she altered her grip on her knife, holding it in just one hand. Her free hand curled into a fist as her knees bent slightly. Somehow, it all just felt right.

She moved away from the statue just enough to give herself room to maneuver. The calm within her evaporated, but she did not change her stance. The garm licked its slavering lips and leapt.

In an instant, time slowed, painting each detail in painful clarity. Its claws slammed into her armored chest, sending her staggering back. She stabbed anyway, but the blade's edge only glanced off the side of the thing's throat. Its snapping jaws reached for her face as it began to fall back to the ground. Reina scrambled away, feeling the claws run raking tracks down her armor.

She kicked for it on instinct. It responded by snapping for her foot. She pulled her leg back at once with a frightened gasp. The thing rasped something that sounded horribly close to a chuckle.

It lowered its haunches and Reina managed to recognize the coming pounce. This time when it jumped she ducked slightly, then snapped back up just as the outstretched claws failed to hit her. Now they rested on her shoulders, but the black streak of her blade made that point moot. Her dagger buried itself in the dark throat. There was a softness, almost like fur that drifted over her hand before the swath of dark blood washed over it. The beasts eyes went wide as Reina continued to push, trying to cast it away. It grabbed her with its forepaws as its back legs scrabbled at her, claws leaving growing gashes in her armor. She toppled with it, and they landed in a heap. Reina sprang back up, but the garm was already dissolving into a billowing black smoke. She snatched up her dagger from its vanishing throat and took in great breaths of crisp air. Her hands shook, and every effort she made to quell them went in vain. These things… she didn't want to see these things again.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She whirled at once, dagger raised. A garm stalked toward her, its belly low to the ground. As she met its molten eyes, it abandoned all pretense of stealth and bounded for her. Two strides carried it closer, but there was another sound behind it like shifting metal. A third leap shortened the gap between them, but the sound was louder now. Reina's jaw tensed, sure something else was going to come around the statue and add its fangs to the fray. She kept her dagger ready.

A black form swept into view, but it moved on two legs. Nova catapulted in behind the charging garm and aimed a wild, desperate strike for it, catching the back half and cleaving into its abdomen. Her blade cut through and did not stop, the force of the desperate momentum carrying it right into the statue. Screeching metal set them shivering as her sword scraped along it. The edge came away chipped and haggard, like broken teeth. Nova's face scrunched in pain, but still, she plunged the tip into the wailing garm as it scrabbled on the ground. An otherworldly moment of calm settled on them. In the brief respite, Nova rushed for Reina, though limping, and pulled her into a brief, one armed hug. Reina barely thought to move her dagger in time.

"Are you alright?" Nova asked breathlessly.

"Thank you," was all she could reply.

Nova's response was to hold her tighter before stepping away and scanning for more enemies. She hobbled as she moved, the mangled armor on her leg standing out grimly.

"Nova..." Reina murmured.

"I'm fine," she assured, taking the time to cast a smile over her shoulder. "It's just bruised and the armor restricts my movement."

Reina nodded. She had to trust that it was true.

* * *

At the edge of the trees stood a garm with distinctive, orange eyes. He studied the battle with an intelligence his kin lacked as he winced. The stones were bright, like sunlight reflected off a rippling pool of water. Others of his pack turned their gaze away, but he would not. The Strong One had given them a task. The garm lowered his head, leering with disdain at the milling two-legged creatures and their bright forms. He had to find the brightest one among them; those were his instructions. Burning light stabbed at his eyes as he stared into their midst. Yes, that one, sequestered behind all the other garish lights.

But the orange eyed garm paused. So many of his brethren had fallen this day, all to get to that wretched brightling, and now there were few in his force remaining. He did not fear death, indeed such a concept was foreign to him. But pain? Pain he understood. Pain, he feared. There were far too many blades in the hands of the Bright Ones, and all of them were trained toward his kin in defense of that whelp. But... there was something else that glimmered, something else that glowed with lancing light, and the Bright Ones did not seem to remember it was there. The object was some sort of gem, that he knew with certainty. And it shone, just as bright as the whelp below. Surely the Strong One would be pleased with such a prize, even if the prey was not the one he demanded?

The garm huffed out a breath in pleasure at his own cleverness before snapping out a series of barks to those around him. They did not question, but ran straight for the circle of stones. The orange eyed garm followed in their shadow. As the others met the garish, vibrant creatures in battle, he pressed onward, leaping for the gem of miniature sun. His eyes burned and snapped shut, unable to look at the abomination so close. He snapped it up and leapt away only loose an ear-splitting howl of purest agony from between his tightly gripping teeth. It _burned_! Great bounds carried him from the circle of stones that sent lightning through his body but he hardly noticed; he was going to burn alive.

Orange eyes scrunched hard as his head thrashed, casting the wretched gem from his maw in a great, sailing arc. Another garm scooped it up only to scream, carry it two steps, then collapse into mist. A second took its place, lasting slightly longer.

The orange eyed garm hobbled toward the tree line, paused, then turned around. The bright creatures shouted and raged, one of them running toward where he now stood. A male, his squinting eyes decided. Yet the man was not quite as bright as the others. In fact, the garm noticed another, dimmer soul, and one more besides it, both wielding gleaming, silvery swords. Those creatures were a gentle, warm light like the flickering flame of a fading fire.

The orange eyed garm shied back into the low branches of a squat pine as his kin carrying the cursed gem ran past, a warbling whine pealing from its lips. The man approached, pounding steps pursuing his fleeting brother. The garm gathered himself and leapt from the bushes just as the man reached them. His jaws opened, snapping down on the only thing he could reach without that wretched armor: his hand. Ah, that scream was music. The garm bit harder, savaging teeth cracking bone after bone. The sword clenched in the man's hand was only held tighter in his crushing jaws, filling the beast with a wicked satisfaction. Now the man could not get free. A growl of pleasure rumbled from his occupied maw as the man rained a hail of strikes with his shield to no avail. Blood flowed in sweet rivers in and around the garm's muzzle.

The garm glared at him with the devious promise of death. Yet one ear flicked back as a low warbling note cut the air. The gleam of a dagger caught his eye before plunging into the space just behind his shoulder. His jaws opened in a wail of pain. Another dim figure came into view just before a silver gleam sent pain exploding through his neck.

Then he knew no more.

* * *

Trentus clutched at his wrist, swaying for a moment as his sword clattered to the ground. He pushed everything away, forcing a calm he didn't feel as he took slow, deep breaths. Panic would only speed his bleeding out. An arm braced his shoulders, but he waved it away. Still, he dipped his head to… the Outlander? Yes, he nodded. No one else had such red eyes. Content with his logic, he walked back toward the circle of stones with steady steps.

A voice called to him. He heard it, but couldn't quite figure out how to respond. Indeed, if the world could just hold still, that would be a great help. Nova appeared before him, calling his name.

"Hello," he replied. It seemed like a good response.

Her arms were around him in an instant, half supporting, half dragging him to the safety of the stones. Her strides were uneven, but he couldn't piece together why, then he was sitting on the ground. The ground was nice. It swayed less.

"The garm?" he asked.

"They've gone," she assured.

Another face appeared before him, a golden-haired male. The elf spoke patiently, soft blue eyes watching him. Trentus could only nod and lift his mangled, bleeding hand. Truthfully, he guessed most of the words. Amber light suffused the glade a moment later.

Nova's jaw was tense as she watched. This would not kill him, she reminded herself again. But if he lost his hand, his dominant hand… Then Trentus would master the use of his other hand! He was too strong to give up that easily! She nodded several times, but it did nothing to soothe her.

She should have run to help him, should have cleaved that damn thing's head from its body! But she had to protect Reina, not break ranks and scramble off like a wailing child. Trentus would tell her as much himself... soon. Still, she turned and offered Aveth her hand. He clasped it hard at the wrist.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course," came his soft reply.

She turned to the man healing Trentus.

"Nirael..."

"I can stop most of the bleeding," he assured, "but he'll need to see a proper healer. The bones..." He pursed his lips and didn't finish the thought.

Nova nodded grimly.

"I'll be fine until then," Trentus assured, a measure of strength returning to his voice even with his cheeks strangely pale. He stood without help and took measure of their surroundings.

"How many dead?" he asked, voice sounding strangled.

"Five sir," Nirael replied.

"Five?" Trentus repeated. Over half of the men he'd brought… At the solemn nod he received in response, he sighed. "Injuries?"

"Eletheen thought it would be fun to break her arm, but other than that, not terrible," the man smirked.

"Don't make me come over there," threatened a woman's voice, dryly.

Trentus held up a hand and they fell silent.

"Those who are able, bring the dead within the Senge Stones. We'll return with a team later to bring them home." His first duty was to the living. Their wounds needed tending by a dedicated healer… and he had to get their ward to safety. He knew he could ask his warriors to carry their brothers and sisters home, but it would render them all but incapable of protecting their prospective queen. It was not acceptable, and he hoped their fallen would understand.

He looked to the freckled Outlander, her pale golden hair disheveled as she stood. She met his eyes mournfully, but without flinching and he gave her a nod of approval. He did not think about the loss of the gem in that moment, nor the ramifications. His focus remained on his soldiers. Trentus turned away to offer his single good hand and help pull in Raevel. If he looked only at the mercifully closed eyes, he could almost pretend the man he'd trained from boyhood was only sleeping.

Reina lingered beside the statue as she watched Trentus. She took a step forward, intent to help, but caught the subtle shake of Nova's head. Thus, she remained immobile, her dagger still clasped to her chest, clutched in both hands for her unwillingness to sheathe it.

After an age, they left the majestic stones and statue behind, walking in silence as the afternoon sun sank lower.

* * *

The table was quiet, nestled in a small, seldom-used room within the palace. Nova sat staring into the dark, polished surface, holding a mug of tea. Around the table with her were Reina, Aveth, and George, the latter of whom had provided the tea. Aveth sipped his calmly

Nova's hip felt strangely barren, devoid of the familiar weight of her sword. The blacksmith had been quick to suggest forging her a new and "proper" blade of their black metal. She had declined, saying simply that her blade was special, and to her it certainly was. But at least the new piece for her greaves had been easy enough to replace then and there. She sighed, pushing the thought away.

"Nova?" Reina asked softly, as if afraid to break the silence. "Why were we there?"

Nova looked over, eyes weary. She saw George's shoulders tense in her peripherals, but she simply couldn't care anymore. She had known two of the dead, helped Trentus train them, and even offered counsel through difficult times…. Now they were gone, all because of a promise she herself had made.

"We were there to commune with our Ancestors," she began.

"Nova," George interjected.

She turned on him, stress and loss mingling in anger as it all rushed from her.

"No! She deserves to know! If it wasn't for that damnable promise we could have brought the entire royal guard! Have you seen our archers? Nothing gets past them!" She took a shuddering breath. "They would still be alive…"

George winced and fell silent.

Nova reached out a hand and covered Reina's own, as much to soften her words and provide support for them as to soothe her own emotions. She almost dared George to comment on the action.

"That place…" Nova finally continued, "is a testing grounds. There we ask our Ancestors to look upon our potential monarchs. We do not believe in rule by blood, instead it is the worth of the soul, those deemed worthy by the Ancestors."

Reina blinked. Was she saying that…

"Our last ruler, Queen Lucinda…" Nova bit her lip, then forced out the words anyway. Let the Ancestors smite her if they wished. "She saved our people in our most dire time of need. But to do so, she had to wield the very power of the Well of the Ancestors herself."

"The Well of the Ancestors?" she had to ask.

Nova opened her mouth, then bit her lip, brow furrowing. To her surprise, Aveth answered for her.

"It is a place where the souls of the ancients reside. As I understand, its magic is incredibly powerful, and indeed, from it comes the barrier that protects this city."

Nova murmured her thanks softly.

"But if those beasts are so dangerous, why not do the 'testing' inside the city walls," George asked, folding his arms.

"Because it cannot be done within the city! Else we would!" Nova snapped. "It must be done at the Senge. No one asked me what I wanted the rules of magic to be, but there they are!"

"Nova," Aveth said softly.

She paused, her lips forming a thin line and she drew a heavy breath in through her nose.

"The garm breached the city and the palace about three centuries ago. Queen Lucinda," Nova finally continued, "managed to cast the Devourer from the city and back into whatever hole it crawled out of, but..." She took a deep breath. "She had to use her body as the catalyst. It shattered her form instantly. Though... there is a light in all of this. The spell had a secondary effect, ensuring that she would be reborn." She paused for a moment before continuing. "That… is regrettably the source of our current dilemma. Lucinda is still tied to the Well and the magics granted to the monarchs. Faintly, but enough that another cannot be crowned. And so, we have spent the last three hundred years seeking her reborn self." Nova's eyes stared directly into Reina's. "That search has lead us to you."

"Me?" Reina whispered, blinking. "You think _I'm_..." She drew her hand away and folded them in her lap. "But that's-"

"You have memories," Nova whispered. "Things you couldn't possibly know from your life as it was."

Reina opened her mouth, then closed it and looked away.

Nova did not relent.

"You told me how my parents died, do you recall? You told me you were sorry you couldn't have gotten there sooner."

Reina stared at the dark grains running through the table's wood. She wanted to protest the statement, and all of its implications. Yet she couldn't. Those words still lingered within her, the memory of sorrow settled right beside learning to bake a proper pie with her father for the first time. She could not deny either of them, but neither could she accept them yet.

"Are you sure?" she had to ask.

"_I_ am," Nova breathed, barely audible.

Reina bit her lip. Her, a queen?

A heavy silence followed, as if a low music suffused the room and all of them were loathe to interrupt it.

"Then… those warriors died because of me," Reina finally said.

"They died doing their duty," Nova refuted, not unkindly. "They would have walked out there for anyone, not just you. It was their choice. Do not dishonor them by saying you made it."

Again, no one spoke. Nova searched Reina's face, wondering just how to soothe such a monumental revelation for the woman. The mantle of a monarch was a heavy one. Yet before she could, a hand covered her own.

"It's been quite a day," Aveth offered softly to the silence. "Why don't we all get some rest?"

Nova agreed, but Reina moved first, standing from her chair and stepping from the room with neither word nor sound. George followed in her shadow, equally mute. He paused only long enough to issue a cold frown and the shake of his head.

Nova looked back into the golden liquid of her tea, now cold.

"Aveth… have I done the right thing?"

"Time will tell," he offered, squeezing her hand. "But I believe so."

She nodded at that as they sat for a while longer, until the window lost all trace of light.

* * *

A sigh rolled from his fetid breath that set the air shimmering with heat. The Devourer rose and paced the dark beneath the dead branches of a thorny tree, pulling his hulking form from dreamless sleep yet again.

The song.

That miserable, loathsome song was still flowing through his ears. His lips peeled back as a growl boiled in his chest. It had to stop. Make it stop!

His legs buckled and dropped him back to the ground. He had to make it stop. The gentle, soothing notes were knives in his ears. He lifted a paw to cover the pointed appendages, but to no avail. His pack needed to hurry. If they didn't, he was going to kill one of them just to make a point. That or he was going to be driven mad.

The wailing screams of his kind brought him to his paws once more. He turned, hackles raised as a wicked growl seethed from him, lit with the fiery light from his maw. Within the pool of illumination leapt a garm. The creature convulsed once, then dropped to the ground, evaporating into mist.

The Devourer snapped his eyes shut as a garish, vile light exploded into the space. From the last remnants of his brother's vanishing jaws, he beheld the brief glimpse of a jewel. He dared to crack open one eyelid to confirm, but couldn't decipher anything for the blinding light. With another growl and working nose, he padded forward, gingerly poking at the spot with his paw. Something smooth contacted it and set his skin hissing and bubbling as if acid washed over him.

The Devourer's lips peeled back wide, but this time it was in a great, feral grin. This. This was almost better than the death of that wretched whelp.

He dipped his head and snatched up the trinket in his jaws, swallowing it in one gulp. The agony as it slid down his throat was almost unbearable. Yet he rumbled something akin to a lilting laugh. The gem blazed with a strangely familiar power, pulsing through him like the false echos of a heartbeat as it sank into his belly and met the raging fire there.

Strength. It felt like strength.

He heard their screams, oh yes. He felt them within the bright stone and reveled in their agony. It fueled him, gave him strength. His own dark nature churned against the jewel, wrapping inky tendrils around it and slowly probing for any weakness that would let him seep into the cracks. Corrupting such a prize would be well worth the effort. It would take time, but there was always a way, and he could be so very patient.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Wake of the Past

George walked the palace halls and, for the third time that day, decided he was definitively lost. He paused and scratched at his head with a sigh. Almost as if his thoughts had been heard, a voice called out from behind him.

"Now that's the look of a man far lost," Aveth announced, chuckling.

George gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes and turned to see the dunmer who wore a mischievous smile. Behind him walked Nova, whom he pointedly ignored.

"Have you seen Reina anywhere?" he asked Aveth. "I've been looking for her since after breakfast. No one's seen her."

Aveth shook his head. His gentle eyes wrinkled at the edges as he thought.

George scowled and kept his stare on the dunmer, but there was no doubt as to whom he was speaking. "Just how many people have you told your little hunch to anyway? All this morning people have been whispering and glancing at her, asking her if she's their beloved little queen."

"We said nothing, but the people here are smart and won't be deceived for long," Aveth replied with the same, level tone. "And to be fair, Reina had quite a day yesterday. She probably just wandered off somewhere quiet to think," he offered.

Nova frowned at his words. They prodded at her, bringing up an old, half-forgotten memory. Lucinda had often vanished the very same way when she needed time to think, much to Nova's own distress. The queen had only shared her secret hiding place after Nova had threatened to follow her quite literally everywhere she went… and made good on said promise. In fact, she'd rarely seen Lucinda so… _flustered_. It was a memorable personal victory, but Nova was only as good as her word. Besides, it had only taken one day.

Nova slipped away silently, unwilling to share such knowledge with the others just yet. She made for the queen's chambers with brusque steps, then continued past it and around a corner. A mural on the wall greeted her, this one a pleasant, sunny field across which ran a herd of horses in precious stones of every color. Wings adorned some, horns on others, and a scant few were bereft of any unique feature. She paid them little attention, turning her gaze to the gray stones settled in the green grass. She poked one. Nothing happened. She tried again, harder this time. When the same effect took place, she tried another stone. This time there was a click. Nova shrugged. So… second guess. Third? Eh, not bad. She'd meant to do that.

Nova stepped aside to the smooth wall next to the mural and pushed. A seamless entryway formed as the stone swung open. She strode inside and closed it behind her, walking carefully down the steps she knew were there, but could not see in the pitch dark passage. Slowly, a small light became visible from a tiny milky gem embedded in the wall. Another was nestled an arm's length from it. She took comfort in the light, but knew there was still quite a ways to go.

* * *

The circular room with its rough walls was spattered with crystalline gems. They provided a gentle pool of light that abated slightly at the room's center.

Reina stood there, staring at the welling light as she clasped her arms, more for something to do with her hands than anything else. She had found this place. Actually… that wasn't quite right. She had _known_ this place was here, and known just how to get to it. All in some castle she'd never been to before.

But that was just it, wasn't it? If she was to believe anything Nova had said… this place had once been her home. She still wanted to deny it, but the more time she spent here, the harder she found the task.

She heaved a sigh that sounded almost like a growl. What did she do with such knowledge? What did she do _now_? Did she become the queen of a people she didn't know? Could she even _be_ a queen? Unless royal duties consisted of "bake a pie" and "make sure that man pays his tab", she wasn't sure she was exactly qualified. At all. And what then became of her training to become a healer? Would she simply throw it all away?

The sound of footsteps caught her ear, breaking into her spiraling thoughts. She turned, squinting into the dark hall as her eyes adjusted to the gloomy confines. Nova walked into the well of light slowly. She waited, and when Reina did not reject her presence, she moved closer.

Nova stared for a moment. There, in Lucinda's old hiding place stood Reina, bathed in the gentle glow of light. She looked… ethereal. She did not match Lucinda's countenance, true, but it did nothing to diminish her. Indeed, her silken hair alone veritably shone. And yet Nova winced. It was all a dagger being driven into her side, a painful proclamation that she was once more destined to watch a goddess from afar. She buried the thought, but it clawed away the dirt relentlessly.

Reina stared back into those somber blue eyes. Deep in the pit of her stomach, anger crackled in wane embers at being kept in the dark, at being deceived. But curse it all, she could understand why. She drew in a breath through a frown and let it free as a heavy sigh. Anger wouldn't change anything, nor would it help her find the answers she sought, and so she let it wash from her in that weighted breath until she could focus once more on the penitent figure before her. Those solemn eyes… they hurt her somehow. She smiled despite herself, hoping to put the woman at ease.

"Nova," she greeted.

The warrior bit her lip.

"Are you… alright?" she asked hesitantly.

"Well enough," Reina found herself answering.

Again, Nova hesitated.

"You… weren't hurt yesterday? At the Stones..."

Reina studied the other woman with calculating eyes. Nova knew the answer; she'd asked her the moment they'd made for the city. There was no reason to ask again unless there was something else she wanted to say.

"What is it, Nova?" she pressed gently.

Nova frowned, caught in her own ruse. She loosed a sigh of her own.

"I'm sorry. I promised I'd protect you. But I let one of those abominations close to you. You had to fight it off yourself! I'm… I'm not worthy to be your vassal. I-"

"Nova," Reina interjected. "You can't protect me every moment of every day. No one can. Ask my dad, he's tried." She smirked at that, then offered, "It's enough for me that you're there."

Nova opened her mouth to protest.

"All you can do is your best," Reina said, closing the matter with an almost imperious air.

Nova gave a soft smirk and shake of her head. "That'll teach me to argue with you."

"Right," Reina nodded with a devious smile. Yet it faltered as the cold memory of the Senge Stones wandered back to her, and the milling black garm whirling around them. Red eyes bored into her stare as she felt the strike of her dagger replayed again and again. There were more memories hiding behind that one... but the dagger had been heavier.

No.

It had been a sword. The weight, the movement, the _feel_ of the strikes… _They_ were different. Yet the gleaming eyes never changed.

"That wasn't the first time I've fought them, was it?" she asked, almost to the air. Nova blinked, brows furrowing, but Reina did not seem to notice as she continued. "I see them in my dreams sometimes. I always just thought I was afraid of wolves, but no. Those things…. I've… I've fought them. But… there's no way I could have done that back home."

Nova's eyes glazed as her mind flashed back.

_Lucinda whirled, cutting the head from the __leaping __garm with __a __single __sweeping__ strike._

_ Nova stood, mouth slightly parted, reminded all at once that her queen was no fair maiden in need of protection from the world. Black blood stained her garments and skin, ah, but it could not diminish her beauty. Her strong stance, pale form, and silver silken hair that began to escape her braid and frame her flushed cheeks. Nova could not move, enamored by the sight. Lucinda was the moon, radiant and ethereal. Nova… was the night, a dim and paltry companion, but steadfast and constant. No, Nova smiled wryly. She was eclipsed. Overshadowed by a goddess. And part of her loved it._

_ Oh, but the rest..._

_ "My queen, are you hurt?"_

_ Lucinda turned back to her with hooded eyes. Nova knew the look well. She'd worn it herself. It was the moment after battle when one found themselves lost in its thrall, waiting for more enemies as blood hammered in their ears. Nova approached and trailed her fingers down the queen's arm before gripping it._

_ "My queen," the warrior repeated softly. "It's over." She pulled a cloth from her belt and gently wiped the inky blood from the woman's face._

_ Lucinda closed her eyes at the touch, a sigh escaping her lips._

_ "Thank you," she offered softly._

_ "Of course my queen," Nova breathed, then removed her unworthy hands from the woman's flesh and continued with rigid formality, "Now, if you are unharmed we should rejoin the others."_

_ Lucinda lingered for a moment, staring at Nova's austere face before nodding._

"Nova?" Reina called, pulling her back to the present.

"No," the warrior affirmed. "It's not the first time. You've fought many before today."

There was silence for a moment. At last, Nova spoke again.

"Your father's looking for you," she offered.

"He can look a little longer," Reina said with a frown.

"He… was trying to do what he thought was best," she offered.

"Are _you_ speaking with him?" Reina asked wryly, arching one eyebrow.

"Well... to be fair, _he's_ not speaking with _me_."

Reina hummed a knowing answer.

Nova smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. Reina's own stare narrowed slightly, studying it.

"Nova?" she asked softly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the warrior quickly refuted. "Why?"

Reina reached for her arm but she shied away. It pushed her to speak more than anything else could.

"It's just… you spent centuries looking for..." She bit her lip. "For the queen. And now..." Now rather than joy, Nova looked like someone had stabbed her and left the blade in to fester. There was a sadness that lingered behind her eyes, one which the warrior couldn't quite hide. Reina gathered her courage and voiced her burgeoning fears. "Are you disappointed that I'm... the one your clues pointed to?"

Nova blinked, winced, lifted a hand for Reina's cheek, then hesitated and let it drop all in the span of three heartbeats.

"Nothing could be further from the truth," she promised.

"Then why?" Reina pressed. "Why this?" She reached out and touched the warrior's somber face. This time, Nova did not pull away, but closed her eyes instead.

"I suppose I'm just a melancholic soul," Nova murmured, offering a pained smile before excusing herself and turning away. She knew precisely where her feet would take her, no matter how hard she fought the compulsion. Without the jewel, lost at the Senge Stones, there was only one place that could provide her answers. It was time to talk to _them_.

"Nova?" Reina called after her.

The warrior paused and cast a glance over her shoulder, one foot on the stairs.

"Dad… Dad said he would make dinner tonight. I mean, if the head chef will let him use the kitchen..." she stammered before continuing. "Would you come? Please?"

There was a heartbeat of silence that lasted so much longer.

"I'd like that," Nova nodded, then disappeared into the dark.

Reina watched her go, biting her lip. If Nova was telling the truth… then what was it? What was it that left her unable to smile truly? In the silent room, she found no answers. At last she sighed and followed the warrior up the narrow stairs. Her mind continued to mull over the thoughts along the ascent, but for the moment, she would have to calm her father before he marshaled the entire guard to lead a search party for her. The image brought a rueful smirk to her lips, if nothing else.

* * *

A spell of light cast a ghostly radiance in her palm as Nova made her way down into the depths. The palace steps wound down deeper and deeper, shifting from paved pale blocks to carved black stone. The rough edges of the rock caught at her cloak on both the steps and walls with each stride she took. She cursed her decision to bring it along and freed it from her shoulders, resolving to retrieve it on the way back. There was only one entrance into the Sanctum anyway.

She pushed on, the endless decent dizzying as the winding stairs coiled evermore. In time, the stones gained a faint blue sheen, the remnants of an enchantment that kept water from seeping through the rough rocks and flooding the area. As she made for the next step, she found none, instead meeting level floor. Nova stopped, placing a hand against the wall to halt her spinning head.

A glow snapped her gaze up. At the far end of a large hall stood a massive, arched door emblazoned with runes that surely meant something, but were far too old for anyone alive to remember. The outline of the doorway and runes shone with a pale blue magic, pulsating at her presence.

Nova swallowed hard and let her light spell fizzle to nothing.

"I know," she offered to the empty air, "that I am not supposed to be here. I am unworthy to set foot in the Sanctum, born of only half our kind. But please, Spirits of the Ancestors, I beg you. Let me voice my plea, if only to soothe my shadowed mind."

She took a hesitant step forward, then another. When no bolt of lightning struck her, she continued. Braziers lit with a pale, turquoise magic in sequence as she passed. An errant thought drifted through her, wondering why her other nature did not hunger at the sight. This magic was different somehow, but she had little care to speculate further and pushed the thought away.

"Ancestors," she breathed, passing another glowing basin of fire. Still, hesitation gripped her, manifesting in rambling sentences. "I know you refused my call after… our queen..." The words trailed into silence. "But I _beg_ to be permitted now. _Please_."

The last brazier lit as she came up to the door. Nova swallowed hard and lifted a hand. It wavered in the air before she touched it to the cool stone and pushed.

It swung swung open slowly.

Nova gaped at the circular room beyond. Though fairly wide with a high ceiling and grand murals carved upon its walls, it was not the architecture that held her gaze. No, it was the swirling pool of pale, blue-green magic in the center of the floor that transfixed her. Nova's feet carried her forward without conscious thought as she gaped at the glowing well.

"Ancestors… thank you," she whispered.

A pulse resounded through the air, roiling through her and rattling the teeth in her head. It came again before the pool began to churn and bubble. Nova swallowed hard and briefly considered turning on her heel and fleeing. But she found herself immobile as the pool exploded into tendrils of ethereal magic, colliding with the ceiling and swirling back down the walls into a sphere that hovered just above the pool. It churned with the sound of a river before falling away like rain, leaving behind a figure in the vague image of a woman garbed in a long, flowing robe. Nova blinked at it, taking a step backward.

"Do not be alarmed, child," it soothed with a dozen different voices at once. "We believed this form to be most pleasing to you. We wished to put you at ease."

Nova still stared, mouth agape and wide-eyed.

"You're… not angry?" she managed, the only thing she could think to say. "I... thought only the monarchs could commune with..."

"No, child," it said, shaking its head with a small laugh. "The Well has always been open to all of our descendants. We would gladly return from the Far Shore's embrace to guide and tutor those who come after us."

Nova's eyes narrowed at the proclamation, wondering why she had been denied all those centuries ago, if the figure's words were true.

"Because it was regrettably necessary," it replied.

Nova took another step back at the reply to an unspoken question. The phantasm did not seem to notice as it continued.

"The spell Lucinda wielded on that fateful night drew from the Well. It has taken much time for our regeneration. Even now, we are but a shadow of our former strength. Indeed, it is all we can do to maintain the barrier keeping the Enemy from our city."

Nova lowered her eyes. So... it wasn't because she was a mongrel?

"We know your mind, but we would have you voice what troubles you," the figure entreated, drifting toward her and laying a spectral hand on her shoulder.

Nova jumped, fearing that somehow the hallowed touch would burn. When nothing happened, she relaxed slightly and turned back to the being's eyes.

"I'm… nothing but a half-breed. I have no right to ask anything of you. I am not truly one of your children."

To her surprise, the phantom laughed sweetly.

"Oh child, what a woeful thought. Where _did_ you learn such a thing?"

Nova almost replied something along the lines of "half the children she'd grown up with", but refrained.

The figure paused, all remnants of mirth bleeding from its face.

"You are not befouled for a unique heritage, but rather enriched by it. Banish the thought. Furthermore..." The phantom paused again, laying both spectral hands on Nova's shoulders, its voice lowering. "Mark my words with care. A family is not those born of the same womb. A family is comprised of those who stand by one another, and love the others always, even if sometimes they wish to put individuals on a ship and send them far away for a… _very_ long time."

That got a smile out of Nova as the phantom continued.

"You are just as much a part of our people as any other born on this island. Perhaps more. For you had to work to earn your place."

Nova's eyes searched the figure's ethereal face, but found only the same, motherly stare.

"I..." She brought a fist to her chest. She was… welcome?

"It is alright child," the phantom offered, placing a hand to the warrior's cheek. "We know your heart. In this, words would weaken the meaning." It paused for a moment, retracting its hand and floating back a pace.

Nova bit her lip. She wanted to believe, but it was one voice against years of many.

The phantom seemed to take pity on her struggle and offered a distraction.

"But this is not what you came to ask us."

"No," Nova admitted. She gritted her teeth, and like pulling an arrow from a wound, divulged the words quickly before she could hesitate. "I want to bring Reina here. I want you to confirm her, or do whatever it is you have to do! She _is_ Lucinda!"

"Caution child. It is not your place to make demands."

"Then please! I will beg if you need," she pleaded.

"She is not ready," the phantom said.

"Of course she is!" Nova protested. "She-"

"_Be still_." The phantom's voice cracked like a whip through the air, leaving a resounding, roiling thunder in its wake. Its ethereal eyes narrowed and Nova fell silent at once. "You speak of matters you barely comprehend. All you can see is a singular leaf when the tree branches before you."

Nova knelt quickly, bowing her head.

"Forgive me, I… I only wanted..." But she gritted her teeth and shut her eyes against the words and the dull ache in her chest.

The phantom drifted toward her slowly and lifted her chin before drawing her to her feet once more. It's eyes met hers with pity, its former ire entirely forgotten.

"Little Nova," it sighed. "Why do you ever deny your heart's longings? Fear will consume you if you let it, and leave you but a hollow shell in a hollow existence."

Nova flinched away, trying not to think of anything, and instead thought of everything.

"But you are not ready yet either, are you?" the phantom lamented. "Close your eyes, dear child. Hear your heart's desires. Let them flow through your mind, listening without judgment, simply noticing."

It drifted back slowly toward the radiant pool.

"But I..." Nova whispered.

The phantom drifted further, then paused and turned back again, almost as if it couldn't help itself.

"You care for her deeply," the phantom whispered. "Such a pity you let others dictate what is 'proper' for you." It winced then pressed its lips together tightly before sighing. "But you are not yet ready."

And then the figure melted back into the pool, leaving silence in its wake. Nova stood there for an age, motionless. Her eyes stared at the Well, reflecting its wheeling light in the effervescent gloom.

* * *

The radiant light of the late afternoon sun in the halls did nothing to lift the warrior's mood as Nova walked slowly through the palace. She had no destination in particular, save for trying to elude the beginnings of a dull headache.

_You care for her deeply…_

Nova glowered at the remembered words. Stupid ghost lady. What did she know? The rational part of Nova's mind chimed in helpfully with "probably everything" since, it _had_ been able to know her mind…. Also, she was going to be hit by lightning if she kept up with such blasphemous name calling. Nova's eye twitched and she promptly told that part of her to shut up or she'd smite it herself.

She pressed on, winding through the halls until she found a simple door in a seldom-used hall. She knocked out of habit, but entered before a response was issued and shut the door behind her.

Aveth sat cross-legged on the bed. He did not look up from the book he was reading. The windowless room was lit only by the warm flame of a single candle, but it was all either of them needed.

Nova lowered herself to the floor and sat with her back against the foot of the bed. For a long moment, they simply sat in companionable silence. Only the sound of turning pages broke the stillness.

"What are you reading?" she finally asked.

"The Sailor and the Seamaid," he replied.

"That's a good one," she appraised.

"It is, but I really hate the ship captain right now."

She glanced up and tipped her head backwards to look at him. "Oh?"

"Doing what he did to the sailor just because the Seamaid cares about him instead of being in love with the captain. Did he ever think that maybe she'd love him instead if he wasn't such a complete piece of-" He stopped himself, clearing his throat. "He's a fool."

Nova smirked as he continued.

"I can't wait for the Ancestors to smite him and his gaudy boat! Throw his miserable hide to the bottom of the sea!"

"It was rather spectacular," she agreed, both of them having read it before.

Aveth smiled, then paused, studying her.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company, but what brings you here? I doubt you came to hear me prattle on about books."

"I didn't have a reason," she admitted. "Just kind of ended up here, I suppose."

"You found Reina, I take it?"

"You knew I would," she stated with a chuckle. "Else you wouldn't be sitting here reading."

He gave a hapless shrug with a small smile and closed the book, setting it aside.

"How is she taking the news?"

"Frighteningly well."

"I see."

Another pause.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"About what?"

"Whatever it is that brought you here."

"I can't just come and sit with you?"

"Always, but when you look like that, you're not just here to sit."

Nova scowled at the astute summary and shifted her head back down to a comfortable position, staring mutely at the wall.

"Let's see," she began. "I just spoke with the Ancestors, which would normally be wonderful news, right? But they were all the help of an ant pushing a boulder." Her eyes narrowed, daring their retribution. "And best of all, I managed to start my morning by making Reina think I hate her. Or rather… she thinks I'm disappointed that she's Lucinda."

"Are you?"

"No!" Her hand slashed through the air. "That's ridiculous! I mean… maybe, but not in the way she thinks! It's- I just- I don't even-"

"Breathe," he bid calmly.

Nova stopped and gritted her eyes shut. She shook her head slowly.

"But… you care for her," Aveth wondered aloud. "So-"

Nova bristled with a growl. First the phantom, now Aveth. It seemed everyone could say it but her.

"Yes, alright? Are you _happy_ now?" she snapped, voice raising with each sentence as she surged to her feet and began pacing. "I cared for Lucinda too, but I lost her and now I'll lose Reina! The moment she's crowned, that's it. I'm a mongrel _dog_! How could I ever hope to stand beside a queen? I'm just..." She shut her eyes again and stopped in her tracks.

Aveth gaped, taken aback by the outburst and admission alike. Now all the pieces fell into place, painting for him the completed picture. He frowned in thought for but a moment, then he was at her side, wrapping her in a strong embrace. She fought, but he would not let go. Eventually, her protests ceased.

"I didn't mean to yell," she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he assured, then gave a soft laugh. "You've had a rough… series of days."

She huffed out a breath and almost managed a wane smile.

"Yeah... I guess so," Nova murmured. "But I still… I wanted to say..." She bit her lip.

"Hm?"

"I wanted to thank you. All yelling aside..." she added ruefully.

"For what?"

"For not hating me."

"Why would I ever-"

"Because of how I feel," Nova hurried, clenching her eyes shut and taking a step back.

Aveth's gaze softened all the more, voice lowering to match.

"You can't change that anymore than I can change myself," he remarked with a gentle smile.

"Still… just having you. Having you accept it? And not hate me? It means the world to me," she managed haltingly. "More than you'll ever know."

"Nova," he soothed, pulling her into another embrace. She returned it, but stepped back quickly, looking toward the door.

"I… I'm sorry. I'm going to take a walk. Clear my head," she murmured.

"Sure," he agreed, knowing he could no more keep her than hold smoke in his hands.

Nova left the room behind and did not stop as her feet took her from the palace, from the city, and out into the wilds, almost praying for garm to attack and let her focus herself into the ferocity of battle. She ran a hand through her hair with a bitter scoff. Well wasn't she just something. Her feet took her further through the pines until she was running.

* * *

The cave's maw yawned before her, a dark and desolate gash looming up within the forest. Nova's impassive eyes stared at it for but a moment before she stepped inside, her boots echoing throughout the space. She didn't hear them.

A light spell flared in one hand, almost as an afterthought, and trailed beside her as if fearful to be alone in the dark. Soon the cavernous space narrowed into a tunnel that sloped downward and grew slick with water. The musky scent filled her nose as she continued down into the depths. At length, she came to another massive room. It was roughly circular with a nauseatingly high ceiling. She urged her light onward into the space. It was just as she remembered. Around the edge ran the natural floor like a walkway, just barely greater than the width of her outstretched arms. Beyond it, in the center, was a sheer drop well over twice her height that ended in a rough stone floor coated in water. If memory served her, it only came up to her ankles.

Her light spell fizzled to nothing, and the darkness consumed her. She took no notice, cast back into the thrall of memory.

_ Nova followed dutifully behind a man in a black robe with equally dark hair. His pointed ears and poised stride lent him a rigid bearing as she tried not to scowl daggers at his back. Beside him walked a boy far younger than she, but who held an old soul. He was already twice as smart as his master, but that wasn't saying much. Nova hid a private smirk._

_ They came to a cave entrance, worn and washed with rainwater. Before it stood Lucinda with red suffusing her cheeks as her hands shook at her sides._

_ "What is this?" she demanded._

_ "My lady-" the black robed man began to placate._

_ "How could you invoke such a barbaric rite? I would expect better from my own high steward," she cut in._

_ More figures in rich robes appeared from the shadowy trees, watching silently. Nova knew them as the heads of houses for the blacksmith, the farmers, the miners and a myriad of other professions that kept the city functioning._

_ Lucinda knew them too by her posture. With leviathan effort, she managed to choke back her anger into something less visible, but no less potent._

_ "Why are you doing this?" she demanded slowly. "Nova has always been loyal."_

_ "I do not doubt her loyalty, merely her aptitude," the steward replied coolly._

_ "You would not test a full-blooded native like this!" she glared._

_ "Indeed," he nodded, "because I would find myself with far fewer concerns when it came to my queen's safety."_

_ The hand at Lucinda's side shifted just slightly, and from the darkness of the cave stepped a much younger Trentus. Beside him was an elven woman that he resembled remarkably, her raven hair streaked with gray. Then came a trio of guards, all bearing the blue-green armband of the royal guard. _

_ Nova looked between them all and gritted her teeth. There were likely far more guards within the cave than those she could see…. This had to be diffused._

_ "Please, my lady," she called. "Let me do this." She met Lucinda's eyes with solemn determination, willing the woman to understand. If she managed this, then they wouldn't be able to say another word against her. There would be neither a protocol nor a rite they could invoke to take her from Lucinda's side. And maybe, just maybe… they'd stop alluding to her as a mongrel. An orphaned mongrel with no one to protect her. Oh, but they hadn't meant it like that, no not at all. Because they were just too polite for such things._

_ "Very well," Lucinda sighed._

_ They entered the cave in strained silence and made their way to the circular room below. The heads of houses moved around the room but the high steward and his apprentice clustered together near the tunnel._

_ "Look well Gabriel," the raven-haired man remarked. "This is what happens to those who don't know their place._

_ Nova scowled from a few paces away. She wasn't deaf._

_ Lucinda touched her arm subtly._

_ "You don't have to do this," she insisted in a hushed tone._

Yes, she really did.

_ "It'll be alright," Nova promised, stepping away and climbing down a rope ladder which was quickly pulled up once she reached the bottom. Murmuring whispers buzzed around the space before a jingling sound snapped them all into silence._

_ "Begin," the steward called imperiously, magic flaring at his fingertips._

_ Nova wanted to glare at him for the lack of any warning, but she fixed her gaze instead on the large, dark opening in the opposite wall as the grating metal of what had to be an opening gate filled the air. Lumbering steps splashed in the water as _something_ came into view._

_ She had no name for the abomination that shambled out. Only decades later would she know enough to call it an "_amalgamate_"._

_ It walked on four legs with great, hunched shoulders like a bear. Sickly black scales in thick, jagged masses reflected the dull light with an oily sheen. Knotted coral protrusions twisted up from its shoulders and back like great spines along its hulking form. Yet her wide-eyed stare remained transfixed on its head. She feared to look away, even for a moment. The eyeless sockets of the bear-like skull on its stubby neck did not blink, did not waver. They stared directly at her, freezing the marrow in her bones. Its jaw worked as if it was speaking, but bereft of the aid of muscle, it only clacked. As it emerged fully, a tail equal in its body length was revealed. It dragged the ground with a hiss and looked to be comprised of a layering of large feathers the size of her forearm._

_ She had expected human foes, a mock battle, not a nightmare made real! From what defaced grave had that depraved steward gone and freed this monster?_

_ Nova drew the black blade she used for training and gripped it firmly before her like a shield._

_ "C-come on you monster," she goaded, just managing to keep her hands steady._

_ The beast glared at her, she _knew_ it. With a fluid motion it opened its jaws._

_ The roar it issued should not have been possible._

_ Nova stood her ground, watching it carefully as she blocked out the sounds of the equally horrified heads of houses and Lucinda herself. She took a deep breath, then regretted it as the stench of rotting sludge met her nose._

_ The monstrosity planted one forefoot with an oozing splash, then did the same with the other. Its spasmed in great heaves, neck bulging. Nova sprang to the side on instinct. A rush of air grazed her face, making her turn as something black shot past her and splattered on the stone wall. A long hiss mingled with a voracious fizzling as she could only guess it began to dissolve the stone. She was not willing to take her eyes from the monster to see._

_ It lumbered around her, tail swishing through the water. She circled with it, watching it all the while. It planted one foot again, then the other before it's body convulsed. Nova dove to the side and rushed in as the mass of sludge sailed past her. The beast's tail came alive as it swung at her like a whip. She ducked low. It was far too close for it to catch her with any strength, all the same she heard a shrill scraping across the armor on her back… and then air that prickled the skin down her spine..._

_ Nova ignored the sensation and swung at the abomination's body. Her blade glanced off of the black scales harmlessly. With a growl, she brought her sword back up and stabbed. The tip pierced just at the base of one of the coral protrusions and bit deeply. An otherworldly scream erupted from the skeletal maw._

_ The beast lifted one massive paw and swatted her aside as if she weighed nothing. Nova landed hard, splashing in the pool and sliding further still. She scrambled back up and swore, seeing her sword still lodged in the beast's shoulder. It twisted around and made an almost comical attempt to bite at the hilt. Nova took full advantage and crept forward, keeping her steps as silent as she could in the water. Her efforts lasted halfway to the beast before it turned and issued a piercing screech. It charged with great, lumbering strides, its coral spines wobbling._

_ She met its charge and leapt to the side, reaching for her blade. It guessed her intent, snapping jaws following her outstretched arm. But she could not change course now. Dagger-like teeth shredded her armor and tore red ribbons across her arm before she escaped the fangs as they clacked down. She bit back a scream and grabbed the sword hilt, relief burning in her as all of her hand obeyed despite the gouges in her muscles._

_ Nova heaved her weapon free as the skeletal maw pursued again. She took her blade in both hands and swung for the vile head, knocking it away. It gave a shriek of rage, sending her teeth grinding in her skull._

_ She stabbed again as it shifted, her blade glancing off the spiny coral and spearing into its neck just where the grim skull joined the oily scales. The blade sunk deeply and she pressed her attack, thrusting it deeper as another shriek burst from its maw. Sweet Ancestors, the cries of the undead could not match such a sound… Nova gritted her teeth and wrenched her blade free quickly, lifting it high and cleaving into its neck. The dark metal cut partway through and met solid bone. The beast flailed, an errant claw striking her and sending her flying again. This time she kept a firm grip of her weapon, though it nearly pulled her arms from their sockets. _

_ A hiss sounded through the air. Her head snapped up mid-flight to see its tail lashing for her. The slick feathers struck her midsection with the scrape of claws on metal. Her eyes snapped wide as pain burst across her stomach. As she hit the ground, she rolled to a stop and scrambled to look. Her armor was sundered, great tracks rent through it. Blood seeped into the water around her as an unnatural nausea welled in her stomach. A frantic splashing drew her focus as the beast's caterwauling cries roiled from its skeletal maw. Its body spasmed as it turned and wheeled, as if somehow that would aid it._

_ Nova pushed herself up and sprinted with grim determination, raising her blade as she went. The monster turned in the direction of her footsteps._

_ Nova brought her blade down with all of her strength, cleaving through the spine and the rest of the muscles keeping the head attached. The skull splintered free with a sickening crack and clattered to the ground as the body teetered. She watched it fall with a splash, heart hammering in her chest as she fully expected it to rise and continue the assault despite the loss. Yet it hardly twitched until…_

_ Nova staggered back from the corpse as it began to bubble and hiss. Oily flesh collapsed inward with the overwhelming stench of rot. Bones followed in its wake, leaving nothing but a putrid mass. She pulled in great, slow breaths despite the rank smell and tried to quell her racing heart._

_ With leviathan effort, she smoothed her features and turned, facing the steward with impassive eyes._

_ "It's done," she declared for all to hear._

_ There was hearty applause from the heads of the houses with murmured approvals despite their unsettled glances toward the beast, and yet the high steward looked as it he'd set his nose right by the decaying creature and inhaled._

_ "Then I believe you've earned your blade," Lucinda declared. Her words were factual rather than praising, likely for the fear that the steward might challenge them in his state._

_ Nova bowled low. "My queen." She made her way back to where Trentus threw down the ladder. When she reached the top, he offered his hand to pull her up and gave her a private smile._

_ "Well done, Nono."_

_ She offered him a rueful grin, but not even the use of her detested nickname could tarnish the moment._

_ A man in silver robes came forward with golden light welling from his fingers. He touched her brow and the pain receded, wounds mending as the nausea vanished. She offered her thanks, then turned her eyes to the steward, who forced something _almost_ like a smile._

_ "Yes…" he drawled through painfully tight lips. "I took the liberty of choosing the blade myself. A fine piece specifically for _you_." The disdainful words dripped with malice. He waved his apprentice forward who lifted a sword wrapped in a black cloth._

_ Nova bristled. A warrior was supposed to choose their own sword! Especially after something like this! Yet the steward's apprentice drew closer and offered the blade with a distinctive wink. His name… Gabriel was it?_

_ "I may have made an… _alteration_ at the last moment," he said in a whisper she barely heard._

_ She mouthed her thanks and untied the strings around the cloth. It fell free, revealing a black sheathe and a simple, yet elegant hilt. Set into the cross guard was the royal crest of a rearing winged horse with a horn on its brow beneath the crescent moon. The hilt itself could be used with one or two hands as she saw fit, granting her versatility. She took it reverently in hand and pulled the blade free slowly. Rather than the black metal that comprised most of their weapons, this was a silvery blue that nearly shone in the dark. Nova looked pointedly at Gabriel._

_ "Thank you, High Steward. You honor me."_

_ The high steward turned an unflattering red as his mouth worked without sound. Eventually he sputtered something that sounded like "of course"._

_ Lucinda entered her view and drew her own blade._

_ "Kneel."_

_ Nova obeyed, setting her sword on the ground before her._

_ Lucinda lifted her voice and spoke._

_ "Those who have borne witness, do you protest?"_

_ "No, your highness," came the chorused response._

_ "Then I ask you to bear witness once again. Today I mark this warrior as my vassal, and my guardian. She has earned her place by my side for all the rest of our days."_

_ Nova tried not to grin like a moon-struck fool and failed. Lucinda lowered her blade and touched each of her shoulders with it before returning to the first and lifting her sword again._

_ "Arise, my vassal," she said, not a command, but a proclamation of status for all to hear._

_ Nova did so and met Lucinda's equally jubilant gaze._

_ "Well done!" she praised._

Nova returned to the present and the dark interior of the cave. The empty scabbard on her side weighed heavily, while the weight of a borrowed black sword felt all too light and entirely out of place. She turned on her heel and left, emerging back into the light of the sun as its set just began to color the sky. She looked back to the cave, then shook her head and trod away, boots crunching on the carpet of pine needles as she went.

* * *

Aveth entered the dining hall and glanced around at the pristine rows of long tables. The dark, polished wood shone in the light of a wealth of glowing crystals, nestled in sconces around the vast space. A small section at the far end was set for a meal, but otherwise the room empty. At such an hour, the day staff would have already taken their evening meals, and the night guard would have likewise come and gone to begin their duties.

Aveth walked between the rows and spied a figure seated at the waiting dishes. Reina looked up and waved. She peered around behind him, then frowned and bit her lip.

"Don't worry," he offered. "She'll be here."

"Right," she agreed, ducking her head and looking down at the table.

Aveth sat beside her and looked up to the arched ceiling. Vines of ivy wove up the walls and met at the top before draping down. The rich green curtain filled the air with a sweet, delicate scent. He stared at it, losing himself in the weaving patterns.

"Aveth?" Reina asked in a whisper.

"Yes?" he turned to her.

She hesitated, then shook her head.

"Never mind."

He leaned his elbows on the table and laced his fingers. At length, he decided to make an educated guess at the subject.

"She does not hate you," he offered calmly.

"Wha-" Reina blinked.

"Nor is she disappointed that _you_ may be Lucinda," he continued heedlessly.

Reina mustered an arsenal of words that denied such fears, but they drained away like water from a sieve.

"Really?" she finally had to ask, clenching her hands in her lap.

Aveth nodded once, slowly. He rested his chin on his hands, but he could not explain and still keep from betraying Nova's own privacy. Perhaps he could proffer something close… a reason that was not quite the truth of the matter, but not an overt lie. No, he refused. That would only create more problems. An inaudible sigh left him.

"Please," he said softly. "I ask that you be patient. You… I believe you will understand in time." He ran a hand over his auburn hair, then admitted: "Her struggle is not with you."

Reina's eyes narrowed in thought for a moment, then she nodded slowly.

"Can I help her?" she asked.

The earnest tone brought a smile to Aveth's lips as he met her steadfast gaze. "Don't give up on her."

Reina held his stare and matched his smile.

"Not a chance," she promised.

"I knew I liked you," he chuckled.

They sat in silence for a moment before George entered, bearing a large platter. Behind him came two elven women with gold and dark brown hair, respectively. They paused at the table and issued a bow. Reina promptly sank lower into her seat.

"My lady," said the fair-haired one with a dip of her head. "We're honored you've come."

George scowled, then sighed and spread a wide, false smile over his face.

"Alright ladies, please. Let us eat in peace."

"They say you fought off ten garm yourself at the Senge!" the second gushed. "Is it true?"

Reina offered a grimaced smile and held up her hands.

"I… I really don't-"

"Aelina, Lucylia," a voice snapped like a whip.

They flinched as one and turned toward the doorway to the kitchen. In it stood a frowning woman with unwavering eyes and steely hair bound tightly into a bun atop her head. She narrowed a glare at them both. "Stop troubling our guests and show some dignity."

They bowed slightly. "Yes, ma'am." Without another word, and eyes cast down, they scampered past her back into the kitchen. The stern woman gave a single bow to the party and turned crisply on her heel.

Reina sighed in relief and turned back toward the table. A dark figure caught her eye as it drifted toward the table. Warmth, and a strange sense of relief suffused her as she met Nova's stare.

"Am I late?" she asked.

"No," Reina shook her head. "No you're just in time!" She scooted to the side to make room for the warrior on the bench.

"So," Aveth smiled, looking to George. "What masterpiece have you crafted today?"

"First of all," George held up a hand. "Did you know that there are fruits that only grow on this island? Now they aren't overly sweet, but if you know the right recipes..."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

A Moment in the Sun

Gabriel sighed and reached for the drawer of his desk, pulling out a flat circle of glass in a brass frame. He held it before the tiny scrawl written in the margins of an ancient book, bringing it into focus. His concentration was not the least bit disrupted by the pacing figure in the room. Indeed, he heard and absorbed every word she said in turn with his reading.

"I know it's her, Gabriel," Nova insisted as she spun on her toes and stalked to the other end of the room.

Gabriel nodded calmly, not looking up.

"You've always had good instincts. If you say it is her, I believe you, but my belief means little in the grand scheme of things."

Nova waved the comment aside, wishing ever more that she could wave away her pulsing headache instead.

"There has to be a way to forge the bond without the gem. I mean, how did they crown the first monarchs?" she insisted. "But the Ancestors are of no help at all!"

"Caution." The sharp rebuke snapped from him, forcing her to halt mid-stride and bite off her next words. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"There has to be a way," she repeated. "But I don't know what to do."

Gabriel, as calm as ever, set down the circle of glass and pushed up from his chair. He made his way around his desk and set a hand on her shoulder.

"Let me worry over this, hm? Why don't you take the day? Maybe show Reina the city? I think some time apart from this matter would do you some good."

"I hate sitting around," she groused, then growled a sigh and, as a final piece, proffered a grumbling swear at her head, which didn't help in the slightest.

Gabriel let her with the same easy tranquility radiating from him. It only fueled her irritation.

"Our sacred relic is gone, we can't link Reina to the Well's power, and you're _this_ calm?" she protested, scowling.

"I panic on the inside," he smirked.

She loosed another growling sigh.

"By the way," Gabriel mused, pointedly changing the subject. "How is your blade?"

"It's in Celedin's care," she said as if there were no safer place.

"At least you didn't break it."

"Hmph."

"This is why I can't give you nice things," he smirked.

That got a smirk from her.

"Are you finally going to tell me how you managed to switch swords on the Old Grouse?"

"You mean His Eminence, the great High Steward?" Gabriel replied with a falsely enamored air. "Hm, yes, I will. About the time that you finally tell me how you've managed to live for so long without aging."

"Maybe I just got more of the elven blood than the human," she replied with a smirk.

"I rather doubt it works that way," he scoffed, returning to his desk and sitting once more. "Our own Trentus was but a few years into adulthood when he trained you. Now he approaches his twilight and you do not. Even I, who was your younger, am no bounding colt anymore."

Nova's smirk didn't waver.

"You're hardly old, but I won't stop you from your detective work. In fact, I'm rather curious to see what you come up with." She offered a wave and turned slowly before stepping into the hall and closing the door behind her.

Gabriel made a steeple with his fingers and grinned.

"Challenge accepted."

* * *

The vibrant blue sky of late morning reflected off the surging waves that rolled along the shore. Reina buried her toes deeper into the sand with her knees held to her chest, arms wrapped around them in turn. Beside her sat George, trying to wipe the sand from his garments and only finding more in the process. He gave up with a sigh.

"I don't know how you can like this stuff," he grumbled.

Reina gave a small laugh.

"It's squishy and fun," she offered.

"It's gritty and messy and I'm going to be finding it everywhere," he huffed.

"Nova manages to tolerate it in armor," Reina reminded.

George's face scrunched further at the name.

She gave a small sigh and looked to him. "You know," she offered softly, "you can't stay mad at her forever. She did the right thing, telling me."

George winced at that and lowered his gaze.

"I..." he broke off with a sigh. "I'm the one that asked them not to say anything," he had to admit.

"I gathered as much," she said with a knowing, rueful smirk.

"But… you know why I did it, right?"

She nodded, lips drawn tightly.

"I understand, but I wish you'd trusted me. I'm not a little girl anymore, Dad. I won't shatter into pieces when things get tough or don't go my way."

"I know, sweet girl." He reached out a strong hand and ran it across her shoulder blades. "It's just… not so easy being a parent. You always want to protect your child, no matter what. And that can get you into trouble sometimes." He paused with a rueful grimace. "Alright, lots of times. But you'll always wonder if you did enough, if you taught them enough, gave them all the tools they need to be successful."

"You did, Dad," she assured, turning so that she could place a kiss on his bearded cheek.

"Divines know I did my best," he said softly, pulling her close. "Divines know..."

For a time, they simply sat there, leaning against one another in silence.

"How are you doing with all of it?"

"Twice as alright as the last time you asked me," she groaned.

"I'm just checking!" he protested with mock indignation. "Remember, I'm a father. It's my job to worry about you."

"All the time?"

"Yes," he deadpanned.

"Where's that written?" she raised an eyebrow.

George pointed behind himself with a wicked grin.

"Right back here on my-"

"No!" Reina protested in a groan, letting her head fall to her knees.

George gave a devious chuckle.

"I'm not related to you," she bemoaned.

"You definitely are. I was there when you were born. I can tell you the story again, if you'd like."

Reina flopped back onto the silvery sand with another dramatic groan. She looked back at the thin line of pine trees separating the beach from the city's view. Movement caught her eye and she groused internally. Someone was about to spoil her secret hiding place.

Nova emerged from the trees and offered an awkward wave. Reina righted herself at once, trying vainly to brush the sand from her hair and back. She stood up, smiling. The urge to run to the warrior filled her. She managed to fight it… for the most part, and maintain a dignified stride as she walked to meet her.

"Good morning!" Reina beamed.

"Good morning," Nova returned, her gaze flicking to the to the ground, then the sea. She was silent for a moment before finally asking, "Are you busy?"

Reina shook her head.

"Because I thought you might like to see the city..." Nova continued, squishing ridges into the sand with the toe of her boot.

"Really?" Reina brightened.

Nova nodded.

"Well, it's just that… I need to pick up my sword from the blacksmith, so I thought maybe," she cleared her throat again, "...maybe you'd like to walk around too. We could go wherever you want," she finished, running a hand over her hair and… blushing?

"I'd love to!" Reina enthused, a not so private smile dominating her face. "Bye Dad!"

"Boots!" he called, tossing her shoes to her. "Have fun and don't get eaten by flying bears."

Nova's brow furrowed.

"It's a long story," Reina assured, shoving on her boots.

The warrior accepted the fact with a simple shrug and led the way through the trees. In the shelter of the branches, they passed a trio of elves in the long, brown leather jackets that were common for the island's hunters. None of them turned, yet Reina couldn't help but feel their eyes follow her. She shied away, feeling foolish until Nova fell back a step without a word, placing herself between the trio and Reina. They passed by in silence, leaving the verdant haven and striding out onto a small dirt path. Two women stood at its side, chatting with baskets tucked in the crooks of their arms. Reina watched as yet again Nova moved with subtle precision to place herself between her and them. The women stopped talking at once and stared openly, surprise lighting their faces. Then they carefully smoothed their expressions and spoke in airy whispers. One offered a sweet smile before the other touched her shoulder and they turned away, each with a slight bow. It only made Reina duck and look away.

"Don't mind them," Nova insisted in a low voice. "They're actually very kind."

"Sure," Reina agreed, wondering just how Nova managed to sense her unease. The warrior hadn't taken her gaze from their surroundings once.

The path grew into a cobbled street and gained small buildings at its sides. They passed one with its door open wide. Reina glanced in out of curiosity and stopped short.

The space beyond was a series of white, pointed arches with leafy vines growing between them, forming the semblance of walls. Within the space stood a wide array of clothing from robes to fanciful dresses as well as simple outfits that somehow still managed to make Reina feel as if she wore rags.

She stepped closer without ever realizing it.

"Would you like to go in?" Nova asked.

In truth, Reina had never been one for fanciful adornments, clothes least of all. Comfort was far more important than any fashionable choice, but even so, she found that she could only nod.

Nova led the way, her boots thudding dully on the meticulously clean stone floor.

Reina followed, pausing at a torso-shaped wooden stand where a rich robe of deep red was displayed. A weaving, vine-like pattern was embroidered in golden thread along the cuffs with painstaking care. She reached out a hand to touch it, afraid to imagine the amount of time such a task would take. The embroidery was silken smooth as she ran her fingers over it.

She stepped around it to a dress in a pale green. It had no embroidery, for it needed none. The shapely cut of cloth and gentle layering of pieces granted far more delicate beauty than any stitching could. Her eyes turned to the cloak beside it, done in an inky, velvet black with the ivory embroidery of a jagged rose across its back.

"Good morning," a chipper voice greeted.

Reina turned to see a woman with platinum blond hair tied loosely in a sheer, amethyst scarf. She was paler than most of the people she'd seen, but it only accentuated her vibrant blue eyes.

"Forgive me, I wasn't aware I had company," she continued with a graceful bow. "Can I be of any assistance?"

"Just looking, Laurel," Nova offered.

Laurel nodded agreeably, then looked to Reina. Her smile faltered briefly as she blinked in surprise before it returned fully and she turned back to Nova.

"Touring the city?"

Nova gave a single nod.

Laurel paused and thought before lifting a hand that glowed with an amethyst magic. Nova frowned at her, but Laurel ignored it. From around a curtain of vines came a folded, tan fabric, drifting into her hand like a dutiful dog. She walked to Reina and offered the item.

"I rather doubt it will make much difference, but you might have an easier time of it in this," she said.

Reina took the cloth in her hands and let it unfurl to reveal a simple hooded cloak.

"I can really borrow this?" she asked, running a thumb along the wondrously soft fabric.

"You can have it, dear," Laurel insisted with a dramatic grimace. "Please, I made that when I was bored out of my mind. You'd be doing me a favor, putting it to use."

Reina gaped.

"Thank you!" she smiled. Now maybe everyone would stop staring at her…

"Of course," Laurel continued, then added as if reading her mind, "Though do bear in mind that this is an island where quite literally everyone knows everyone. At least in name, or maybe face?" she broke off, pondering with a finger tapping her chin. "My point is, it probably won't fool anyone up close, but I hope it at least lets you walk around with a bit more… freedom." The last word was accompanied by a soft smile.

"Thank you, Laurel," Nova sighed in relief.

"Always, dear," the woman nodded imperiously. "If you need anything else, just come find me," she added before stepping into the other room and giving them a measure of privacy.

Reina donned her cloak and pulled up the hood. She took a moment to glance around the open space as a breeze drifted through, fluttering the clothing.

"Do none of you worry about thieves? What if someone just walked in and stole something?" she fretted.

"None of us would," Nova shrugged, a perplexed frown on her face before she remembered that Outlander cities were dramatically different. "Besides," she added with a wry smirk. "Laurel knows everything she's ever made with frightening clarity. If someone stole something and was foolish enough to wear it, she'd turn them to ash in an instant. Or, if she was feeling particularly generous, she'd just bat her lashes at one of the guard, who'd turn them to ash for her."

Reina giggled in response as they finished perusing the shop and stepped back into the street. Nova led her past more, pristine, white-arched buildings, then paused at one. She gave two knocks on the door before stepping inside. They entered a large room with shelves set into the walls. Along them were wood carvings in a myriad of sizes and uncountable subjects. Reina stared at animals from her homeland of Skyrim that were nestled beside bizarre creatures she could not name. Beyond them were ships in extraordinary detail; beasts of the sea; dogs; vibrant, twisting trees; and an entire shelf lined with dragons.

Reina breathed in the scent of the wood with a sigh.

"Good morning, Erisen," Nova greeted.

Reina peered behind the warrior to note a young elven man leaning back in his chair at a scuffed, round table. His deep brown hair hung to his waist in a braid with a handful of strands escaping their proper place as he worked a block of wood into shape. He dipped his head in a polite reply, but offered nothing more. She turned away, her eyes drawn to the rows of carvings. An almost life-sized cat leered back as it readied to pounce, the reddish wood of its fur appearing almost soft to the touch. Beside it stood a small but regal stag, its majestic antlers reaching toward the sky.

Reina's steps paused as Nova continued to walk the room. There before her, once again, was the image of the horse with the horn on its brow. Beside it stood the winged horse, this time reared with mighty wings held high. But Reina's hand shot between them, gingerly picking up the miniaturized form of the statue from the Senge Stones. The horn and wings were no less splendid, but the eyes had been copied with a remarkable likeness that welled with warmth and wisdom. She cradled it to her chest like a babe, then turned to Nova.

"What are these?"

Nova wandered back and peered over the woman's shoulder.

"That one is a unicorn," she offered, pointing to the horned horse. "The winged one is called a pegasus."

"And this one?" Reina asked, still cradling the carving to her.

"It is simply The Guardian," Nova said. "She watches over us while her mate keeps an eye turned to the Enemy." She searched the shelves for a moment before turning to the man at the table. "Erisen, do you have The Watcher?"

He nodded once and pointed, never looking up.

Nova followed until she saw it and picked up the miniature carving in her hand, then offered it to Reina.

Reina stared at the horned horse with its strong, defiant stance. Its wings were not the feathery soft ones of its mate, but instead the leathery wings akin to a dragon's. They were raised slightly as if deciding whether or not to take flight as its shorter mane flowed like fire from its neck. She cradled them both for a moment longer before reluctantly setting them back down, nestling them carefully together amid the other carvings… and arranging them ever so slightly for good measure. Still, she trailed a gentle finger across them one last time. Nova smiled warmly at the sight and stepped away.

Reina moved to the dragons next and shivered. Most were far too lifelike for her comfort. Even miniature, she shied away from them. She made her way around the room, passing by The Guardian once again, wanting to ask how many coins she needed to buy it, but afraid to know the answer. It was far too painstakingly crafted to be affordable.

Nova joined her with a thin wooden box. She opened it to reveal padded sides and placed the unicorn, pegasus, The Guardian, and The Watcher within before closing the lid and passing them to Reina with a smile that welled with a soft warmth.

Reina gaped, looking from the box, to Nova, to Erisen. He now had a relatively small purse of coins before him, though he hardly seemed to care as he continued his work. She looked back to the box.

"They're yours now," Nova assured with a chuckle.

Reina blinked twice more, then held her treasures in one protective arm and threw the other around Nova. The warrior stiffened and cast a glance toward the windows and Erisen, but returned the hug fiercely nonetheless. Nova hastened back and cleared her throat for the third time that day.

"You're welcome," she said to the unspoken thanks.

They stepped from the shop into the daylight, blinking.

Reina resisted the urge to open the box and hold one of the carvings. Instead, she voiced a question.

"Are they… like your Ancestors? Or the steeds of your Ancestors? The Guardian and The Watcher, I mean."

Nova shook her head with a private smirk.

"No. They have existed since the dawn of time and shall continue e'ermore. I suppose you could say they are their own entities, but choose to walk beside our Ancestors and keep us safe. It's… hard to explain."

"I think I understand," Reina offered.

Nova threw her an approving look.

"Do they have actual names?" Reina continued.

Nova paused for a moment.

"They do, but we cannot know them."

"Why not?" Reina lamented.

"To know their names would give us a power over them that we are not meant to have," the warrior replied knowingly.

Reina gave a grudging, if disappointed, nod and trailed a finger across the box's smooth surface.

The steady peal of a hammer heralded the blacksmith's shop well before they saw it. The forge stood on open ground, cleared of everything combustible. An anvil and a dozen other tools Reina couldn't name shared the space. She stared for a moment before she caught sight of an ivory wall nearby. Black metal hooks held an array of items from simple sconces to cooking pots, and sharp kitchen knives. The far end held a small assortment of weapons, swords and exotic daggers chief among them.

A small group of people were gathered in the space between the forge and wall. Reina hesitated, then tugged her hood lower. Working as a barmaid, she was no stranger to throngs of people, nor those same throngs staring at her all the while. She'd learned to ignore it… over several years. But these people fawned over her and treated her as some sort of savior. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder if she truly deserved it.

"Are you alright?" Nova asked softly from the side of her mouth. She did not change her posture, nor turn to look at the other woman. There was no need to call attention to Reina's unease, after all.

"I will be," she nodded with a reassuring smile before she realized the warrior couldn't see her face.

Nova's eyes wrinkled with a proud smile that she kept from touching her lips. She walked toward a man near the anvil, his steely hair bound back tightly to expose his pointed ears. His skin bore a tan hue and sleek muscles revealed themselves as he folded his arms. A trio of blond figures stood before him, the one in the center shorter than the others. Nova's ears caught their conversation as she waited, a polite distance away.

"So you finished your training, hm?" the steel-haired smith inquired.

"Yes, sir," the shorter figure replied in a soft tone as he offered a slight bow. "I even received a commendation of excellence from Commander Trentus himself." The youth's words were factual rather than boastful. He paused for a moment, straightening. "I was wondering… if you still had it?"

The smith turned to organize a set of tools beside him as if he hadn't heard. "And just what do you intend to pursue now that you are able?" he asked instead.

The youth hesitated.

"I… I thought I might join the Night Watch," he replied.

"The Night Watch?" the smith commented, lifting his hammer and studying it. "All you would do is walk the wall and stare at the dark tree line. A rather boring profession for a promising youth."

"You honor me, Celedin, but I'm afraid I don't agree with your assessment," he returned politely.

"Oh?"

"It may be peaceful at times, but hardly boring. The Enemy needs only a moment for its shadowy plot. Let my brothers and sisters sleep soundly beneath the stars. For me, I will walk beneath their glimmering light and guard my kin's slumber."

Celedin paused and set down his hammer.

"You are certain?" he finally asked.

"Yes sir."

Celedin nodded once and stepped away, walking slowly to a chest against the wall. He opened the lid and withdrew a cloth-wrapped item that had to be a sword. The smith returned with the blade and pulled the cloth free. The scabbard was a deep blue, nearly black, and the youth gasped as he saw it. He took it from the smith with near reverence. At a nod from Celedin, he pulled it free if its sheath, letting the black blade devour the sunlight.

"Today you've earned your blade," the smith declared with a knowing gaze. "Tonight it walks beside you, and for all the nights you draw breath hence. May it serve you well and be your ready guardian e'ermore."

The youth sheathed the blade and bowed at the waist, echoed by the two figures beside him. Celedin bowed in kind. Then the trio departed, leaving the smith alone at last.

Reina watched the proceedings with interest before Nova stepped forward. The smith stared at her for a long moment with a hard frown.

"You're sure?" he grimaced.

Nova took the borrowed black blade from her hip and set it atop the anvil.

"I want no other sword. That blade is mine, and I will carry all the nights that _I_ draw breath." She watched his eyes narrow, clearly not appreciating his words being echoed back to him.

"Hmph," he scoffed. "You need a stronger blade. Our metal would hardly have a scratch on it from the same impact."

Nova merely stared and folded her arms.

Celedin turned away with a sigh, muttering a handful of choice words that were just conveniently within Nova's hearing. He moved to the chest again and brought Nova's blade out carefully. Still, he stalked back with a defiant stance, the silvery surface flashing in the sun.

"Look," he demanded, thrusting the blade flat out before him. He pointed to a small number of places where the metal's smooth flow was blotched by dark sections like stains. "All of them are now weak points. You need a stronger blade. A _new_ blade. You're too rough on this one. I don't care if you cut a man's head off, but bones are not kind to a sword over time."

When Nova said nothing, he sighed anew and turned to Reina.

"Surely you understand? Look closely," he said as he passed her the sword, then picked up Nova's borrowed weapon from atop the anvil. "Now take-"

Reina shifted her grip on the blade and immediately handed it to Nova.

The smith glared at her, but she didn't flinch.

"It's important to her," Reina stated, as if that was all that mattered.

Nova took her blade from Reina in loving hands and gave the woman an appreciative smile in turn. Reina nodded, tugging back her hood slightly to drink in the sight.

"Away with you both," the smith groused. Yet he was the one who turned, and for a third time, stalked to the chest. He pulled a long dagger from the depths with a dark sheathe and threw it across the distance.

Nova caught it easily in one hand and sheathed her blade with the other.

"Pleasure doing business with you," she quipped, grinning.

His molten glare pushed them back with oppressive weight. Beyond him, an apprentice pulled a rod of glowing metal from the forge and began to hammer it. The sound brought Nova's nagging headache to bear again, hastening her steps as she led Reina away.

They ducked into a bakery next, procuring sweet treats made with fruit. Reina cradled hers carefully atop her box of carvings as Nova led her to a secluded area. The space was a garden, full of green and speckled with delicate flowers. Archways ringed it, strewn with vines that draped down to create a living curtain. A handful of people shared the large area with them, but for the most part each was ensconced in their own task. Reina tried to watch subtly as one of them drew with a delicate piece of charcoal. His subject was another of his kin nestled high in the branches of a nearby pine, strumming a gentle tune on a lute.

Nova moved to a sturdy stone bench and sat. They ate in peace for a time, listening to the dim sound of the lute and chatter of the occasional passerby beyond the thick net of vines. Reina savored the treat. The small circle of crumbly bread was topped with diced fruit. It held a delicate sweetness, unlike the treats of her home, but it was no less delicious. She wondered briefly if she could ask to go back for about eight more.

"Your home is beautiful," she offered instead.

Nova smiled softly. "Yes, it truly is."

They remained for a time, sharing in companionable silence. The afternoon sun drifted lower and they found themselves chatting once again until the sky turned a rosy gold, biding them both to rise and make their way back to the palace.

As they crossed under the shadow of the archway that led into the grand courtyard, Nova turned for a fenced off area padded with a thick layer of scuffled sand. At the far end there were a series of practice dummies, but Nova ignored them, vaulting over the fence and drawing her blade. Some distance away, Trentus paused and offered a single wave with his fully mended hand before continuing on his way. She returned with a salute of her blade.

"If you want to head inside, you can. I'm just going to test out my sword," Nova offered.

"Don't trust the blacksmith?" Reina teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I do, but this is my baby we're talking about here!" Nova grinned.

"Then I'm sorry to say your child is violent. And sharp," Reina quipped.

"Exactly the traits I would want in my offspring!"

Reina gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Nova lifted her blade and began a series of strikes and counters, each flowing into the next as she fought imaginary enemies. Reina looked on with rapt attention. A strange familiarity filled her, but for once, she understood why. She had watched this dance of Nova's many times before, often from the ornate windows high in the palace when no one was around to see. It was no less enthralling to her now. Nova finished with a flourish and sheathed her blade, nodding in approval.

"I'm so jealous," Reina offered.

"Hm?"

"You can fight and do all these amazing things! All I can do is tell you how to bake bread," she groused with a rueful sigh.

"It's no less worthy of a skill," Nova stated, walking back to her. "Besides, you defeated a garm all on your own."

Reina grimaced at the memory.

"That was little more than luck," she scoffed.

Nova raised an eyebrow with a smirk. Reina would have retorted, but the look stole her breath.

Nova smoothed her features and reached to her belt, pulling free her newly acquired dagger and offering it.

"Well, on that note… This is for you."

Reina blinked.

"I thought you should have a weapon of your own. I figured you'd already fought something with a dagger, so..."

Reina blinked again.

"Though in hindsight, I probably should have had him forge a sword. Knives and daggers are a challenge to master. But I couldn't take the right to chose your own sword from you, so..." Her rambling words trailed into silence.

"This is… for me?" Reina finally managed, reaching out a hand

"Yes," Nova affirmed, not bothering to hide her smile.

Reina retracted her hand, shaking her head as she clutched her box of carvings to her chest.

"I can't!" she protested. "You've bought me so many things today… And I can't do the same for you, so it's not fair for me to-"

Nova moved forward and took her hand gently, pressing the weapon into her palm. Her eyes shone with mirth as she chuckled. "I don't expect anything in return."

Reina bit her lip, but nodded and accepted the weapon, offering her thanks. As she held it, she couldn't help but think of the garm and its burning eyes, and the men in her own home city that had locked her in a cage like a beast. She looked back up to Nova.

"Will you teach me how to use it?"

The warrior's face smoothed into a cool determination as she nodded.

"Come," she bid.

Reina ducked under the fence and set down her box.

"Now the first thing you need to know is how to hold it properly…"

* * *

Night stained the land with inky shadow, allowing an equally dark form to stalk through the shuddering pines unnoticed. The Devourer moved with confident strides as he crested the top of a hill, tail swishing slowly behind him. The pines parted just enough to allow him a glimpse of a bone-white wall, its spires glowing a faint, pale green. His black tongue flicked from his mouth and licked his lips with long, savory strokes.

That wretched wall… It was bright. Too bright. It burned him every time he touched it. It _hurt_. Centuries ago he had been stronger. He'd found the strength to forge a path that he and his pack could cross. The too-bright light had shattered the path quickly, of course, but not before his kin had flooded that wretched blemish on his island. He would have devoured his prize too, that grotesque, glorious, radiant being whose song both tempted him and drove him mad… She had used some vile trick and shattered his body. He was weak now. Far too weak. Creating another bridge would take ages. But _he_ had had centuries to think. To find another way.

He threw back his head and howled to the night. The note tore through the air like shredding daggers.

It would begin, and resume, with this.

His ears flicked toward the faint call of thunder that answered. The Devourer did not move from the hill. Instead, he waited for what was coming with a vile grin splayed on his muzzle as another distant crack of thunder boomed.

* * *

Nova scrunched her eyes shut tighter and reminded her body that the entire point of going to bed early was to _sleep_. She groaned bitterly and rolled over, turning onto her stomach and burying her face in her pillow. The feeble attempt did nothing to quell the grinding ache in her head. She toyed with the idea that a bear had wrapped a massive claw around her skull and was now squeezing with all its accursed might. With an exasperated growl, she rolled onto her side, mostly to let herself breathe again. Her hands trembled, clinging tightly to the blanket as she shivered even though her body was veritably on fire. Again, Nova loosed a growl.

So… ignoring it hadn't helped. At all. Imagine that.

She mentally punched the unhelpful commentary and huffed. It wasn't even that bad yet. She would deal with this in the morning. Or… tomorrow night. There was far too much to do. How troublesome this was. Couldn't it wait just a bit longer? That same unhelpful part of her mind reminded her that she'd chosen this path, then continued to point out easy solutions. Nova rolled over again, grimacing as the once-soft blanket grated across her skin before she slapped her pillow over her head. Stupid everything. She was _not_ getting out of bed. It was time for sleep. Her body would have to learn that the hard way. _She_ gave the orders around here!

Yet contrary to her boast, she wriggled free of her bed and strode out into the hall, intent to pace until she tired herself out. She made it all of twelve steps before spying a familiar figure in the hall's too-bright light.

* * *

Reina's bare feet skidded as she ducked into the sitting room and scampered for a wooden partition strewn with vines. She slowed her breathing and ducked behind it, crouching down and peering through a small gap in the leaves.

"Lady Reina?" a voice called. A trio of figures appeared in the doorway, each bearing a tray.

Oh good, she was _Lady_ Reina now...

"Maybe she doesn't want _your_ dinner," one quipped.

"Maybe she doesn't want yours," the other replied with a narrowed gaze.

"We'll try this way," the third offered amiably.

They hurried off in a flurry of robes. Reina breathed a silent sigh of relief and waited, just to make sure they were gone. A door from the other end of the room burst open and nearly made her shout in surprise.

"You cannot keep doing this!"

Reina blinked. Was that Aveth?

"You know ignoring it only makes it worse," he continued. "It's not going to go away because you want it to."

"I know," another voice replied with a heavy sigh.

_Nova?_

"I'll do it tomorrow."

Reina shifted and peered through another gap just in time to see Aveth grimace.

"You've already put it off for too long," he whispered. "If you become starved, your disposition will change dramatically!"

"I know," she repeated, holding up her hands. "I've just been so distracted with everything that's going on… I didn't mean to put it off for this long."

Aveth relented at once, his expression softening. "I know you didn't," he sighed, placing a slender hand on her shoulder. "I just..."

Reina didn't catch the next words entirely, but they sounded almost like "feel responsible"…

Nova simply embraced him like a brother.

"How in the Ancestors' names do you always know, anyway?" she wondered.

Aveth shot her an impish smirk.

"You usually squint most of the day and look like someone force fed you the sourest fruit imaginable."

This time her response was a playful punch in the arm.

"Will you be alright?" he asked, rubbing the offended appendage.

"Spirits of the Ancestors, you mothering hen," she groaned dramatically, then continued, saying each word with pointed care. "I will take care of it."

Reina fell back from the partition and frowned as the two left the room. Take care of what? She bit her lip, thinking. _If you become starved, your disposition will change dramatically…_ Maybe Nova turned cranky when she missed dinner. She wanted to believe it, but the tone had been too serious, too cautionary. Reina pursed her lips and stood. She told herself it wasn't her business, that she should leave it be, but a cold hand gripped her heart. In the end, she knew her path. Indeed, she was hardly going to be able to sleep now.

* * *

A soft knock sounded on Nova's door. She paused, the last lingering dregs of her headache slowly ebbing away. Aveth again? Well he was too late. She'd already fed so he'd have to stow his lecture. Nova smirked as she made for her door and pulled it open. Her smirk faltered as she caught sight of Reina.

"May I… come in?" she asked softly.

Nova nodded, her mind briefly wondering when she'd told Reina where her room was. But then again, Lucinda had known. Just how much of her other life did she remember? Nova pushed away the thought and shut the door in the woman's wake.

Reina walked the small space for a moment. It was modestly furnished with a bed, desk, night table, small dresser, and washbasin. She glanced out the window from between its heavy drapes before taking a deep breath.

"Nova? How long do your people live?" she asked carefully.

Nova's brow furrowed in a frown. A long sigh escaped her lips as she thought, lifting a hand to brush through her straggly black hair.

"I suppose the average is around five hundred years."

"And you were already an adult when Lucinda… when I..."

Silence.

"Reina?" Nova frowned.

"I overheard you and Aveth earlier. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but there were so many people all trying to do things for me, I just… I kind of… hid."

Nova's face darkened for a heartbeat before she sequestered it behind a lighthearted mask. "Don't worry, they don't want anything from you. They're just happy to have you here. They'll settle down soon," she assured.

"Nova." The single word cut through the air as Reina turned to her with hard eyes. They were unyielding, and all too familiar. Reina drew closer, stare softening as she lifted her hands to the warrior's face. Nova took a step back, then stopped and surrendered to the touch. "How is it that your body is unchanged and yet your eyes carry the weight of ages?"

Nova gritted her teeth and looked away. Curse it all. Curse it all to the blackest depths and smite it for good measure! Did she have to remember all of the inconvenient things? Nova issued a heavy sigh. It was… probably time to tell her anyway.

"You… might not like the answer," she finally offered.

"It doesn't matter," Reina refuted, her expression unchanged. "Whether I _like_ it or not, whatever it is is already done."

Nova drew in a deep breath and let it out in another weighted sigh. Before she could think better of it, she released her spell and lifted her crimson eyes to Reina's gasp.

"Oh Nova..." she whispered, shaking her head.

"It's alright," the warrior assured. But Reina's face only grew more lined with sorrow. In that moment, Nova did the only thing she could think of to assuage it. The warrior wrapped her arms around Reina and drew her close, bringing her into a tight embrace. "It's alright," she repeated.

"But..." Reina managed, then fell silent, burying her face in the crook of Nova's neck.

"It's not as bad as you think," Nova offered, leaning her cheek against the soft, golden hair. "I need magic, not blood. And it's hardly debilitating. Sunlight doesn't bother me, though it's bright as the Ancestors, and if I don't feed, all I feel is sick."

"But Aveth said if you didn't-"

"That mothering hen?" Nova scoffed with a smirk. "He doesn't let me get far enough for _that_ to be a problem.

Reina bit her lip for a moment and pulled back to look at her.

"Is there a cure?"

Nova frowned in thought for a moment before shrugging. "Death."

Reina's face snapped into a fierce frown and she issued a sharp kick to the warrior's shin.

Nova swore with a wince before her expression turned serious.

"I never had reason to consider one," she offered, then looked down into Reina's eyes. "Until finding you."

"Nova," Reina murmured, far more like a sigh than anything. She settled her hand on the side of the warrior's face, and before either of them could react, she pressed her lips hard to Nova's.

Nova's muffled gasp of surprise grew faint as she returned the kiss. Her arm wrapped tighter around Reina's waist as her other hand moved to bury itself in the woman's pale hair.

Sweet Ancestors, it was-

Lightning exploded in the air, turning the world a searing white half a heartbeat before the cacophonous boom rattled the window and the teeth in their skulls. The sound of crumpling stone met their ears as shouts of alarm broke out.

Reina dashed toward the window, but Nova grabbed her and pulled her back as another bolt of lightning shattered the sky, resonating in a titanic explosion that made both of them flinch.

"Spirits!" Nova swore, wide-eyed, sheltering Reina in her arms. "Where did this storm come from?"

Neither of them saw the shadowy shape with crimson eyes lingering just beyond the wall.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The Storm

The Devourer's teeth gleamed as the rain lashed at him. He panted, reveling in the taste of the dark storm on his tongue. _His_ storm.

He loosed another deafening howl that surely would have killed a mortal just from the dread sound. Lightning streaked down from the sky, slamming into a spire on the city wall and sending a shower of stones to rain down heavily.

A gleaming green gem rolled to his feet amid the spray. He leered at it, tongue lolling from his mouth. A spectral stare looked back at him from the verdant jewel. His hot breath fogged the prismatic surface before his teeth snapped out and he swallowed it whole. It burned, it seethed, it churned, but it was _delicious._ It slid down his throat to join the great gem in his belly and thrum inside of him with a vibrant, surging power. A shiver of pleasure ran through him at the agony, the revulsion, flowing so sweetly from those bright beings. They were connected to these trinkets, oh yes. And just as he felt searing pain, they felt a rotting sickness and decay.

His lips peeled back in a feral grin as a sigh rumbled from deep in his chest. And this was only the first prize he would have this night….

* * *

Nova ducked on reflex as another blinding bolt of lightning exploded with a clap of thunder that left a ringing in her ears long after its wake. It rolled through the air, resonating even within the indomitable stone walls of the palace as she sprinted through the corridors with Reina at her side.

They hurried on past a row of thin, arched windows. The roiling sea was illuminated in a bright flash as lightning struck its surface. Another hallway later, they came to a large intersection. Gabriel stood there with a trio of others as the two skidded to a stop.

"Not you as well," he chided with a smile. As if in answer to his words, more people drifted in and gathered around him. "Please, everyone, it's just a storm."

"It came from nowhere… with no warning at all," mused an elder with sagely gray hair as he placed a hand to his pointed chin. His gaunt cheeks and amber eyes wrinkled as he frowned in thought.

"Please, honored elder-" Gabriel tried.

"Aelyria has seldom seen its like," a woman nodded.

"Does the sea retreat?" Gabriel asked, voice cutting like a knife above the din.

"No, High Steward, but it rages."

Gabriel nodded once and fought the urge to pace.

Reina watched it all with such a detached fascination. They were frightened, that much she could tell, but they remained so very calm and spoke in such civil tones… She couldn't help but stand there, lips parted. Aveth and George appeared and made their way to her, but said nothing as the calm argument continued.

"It is unnatural," insisted another voice.

Reina frowned, finding that she… agreed. She curled a fist and clasped it to her chest. There was something… malevolent within its swirling hold, something evil.

"We should retreat to the Bastion," a woman offered.

Reina frowned at that too. The Bastion… Her mind quickly filled with the image of an indomitable black keep similar to Skyrim's own fort ruins. The high walls surrounding it held no magic, but protected it nonetheless. Built into stone of the small mountain dominating one side of the island, the entire structure was meant to be a safe haven for the people should the city ever be compromised. Moreover, it was higher up than the city itself, should the sea return to claim its own, as Aelyrian legend professed. Yet there was something dreadfully wrong with the plan….

"Please," Gabriel called. "I cannot ask people to evacuate in a storm like this without due cause. It could injure more than staying, and certainly more if there is no danger at all."

Pounding feet resounded before a black armored guard bounded into the room.

"High Steward," he hurried with the salute of a fist to his chest. "Lightning has struck one of the spires. It has collapsed!"

There was silence.

"The wall..." Gabriel murmured, "has fallen?"

"It holds, but the spire has crumpled," the guard clarified.

"You see? We must retreat to the Bastion!"

Reina didn't hear it, listening instead to the thoughts whispering through her mind. The Bastion was not terribly far from the Senge Stones. Yet the path to it was mostly open ground after the Senge. Open, and barren of any protection. Something… wanted that. The image of the mural on the palace wall flashed through her mind with its great, leering lupine beast. Reina looked up and lowered her hand, a steely determination smoldering in her eyes.

"No," she refuted calmly, with far more authority than she felt she had any right to wield. But they _had_ to listen.

Slowly, each person fell silent amid the thunder and turned their gaze to her. She did not waver.

"You're right, this is no natural storm," she proclaimed, head high. "This is _his_ work." The venom in her words surprised even her.

"You speak of… the Devourer?" Gabriel asked hesitantly.

"He means to lure us into his fangs, but we are smarter. There's another place, higher on the mountain, yes, but closer to us and our path will be protected." She did not need to elaborate. The glittering eyes of the Aelyrians told her they understood perfectly.

There was a grand waterfall on the island, high in the slopes that fed a forking river. To reach the shelter they sought, they would have to cross both streams. But then so would the garm.

"The Eastern Havens," Reina insisted.

Nova blinked, then frowned, then gaped, though she herself was far beyond pointing out that no one had ever mentioned such a place to Reina. The others' expressions were equally stunned, though admittedly better disguised. Nova smoothed her features into a proud, smug smile. Now. _Now_ they understood what she knew within her heart. An explosive crack of lightning and shattering glass wiped the expression from her face as she flinched.

Gabriel looked to a man beside him. His black armor starkly contrasted with his long, silvery hair.

"Sound the call," he said.

The man nodded once and spun away, gray cloak billowing. Nova watched him move to a balcony at the end of a short hall and throw open the doors in a gale of wind. Without a moment's delay, nor care for the rain, he lifted the horn on his belt to his lips and blew. A mournful, intermittent note rang out unerringly across the night. By all rights, it should have been lost among the lashing wind, but it carried strongly. She would almost wager that it could be heard anywhere on the vast island.

In the next heartbeat, everyone assembled turned as one and trotted swiftly down the hall. Nova urged Reina and George onward as Aveth hurried behind them. Reina latched onto the warrior's arm as people milled around them, suddenly fearful of being separated. Her other arm grabbed for her father and held him tightly. They made their way down another hall back to a massive room with two curving staircases leading downward.

She blinked at the mass of people that descended them and streamed into the room below. She'd hardly realized just how many people worked in the palace. Yet they all moved swiftly and with purpose without a shout among them. It was almost surreal.

Reina stopped short on the steps, letting go of Nova.

"My pack!" Reina realized. Her books, her notes… and the carvings that Nova had bought her….

Nova caught her wrist and pulled her along, not unkindly. "Leave it. Nothing inside is worth your life."

"She's right, sweet girl," George agreed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "We have to go."

Reina frowned, but nodded, bidding a silent farewell to her precious borrowed books. Surely Healer Lee would understand if she lost them….

The horn's cry cut through the air again as they emerged into the courtyard. It paused, then issued a trio of sweeping notes twice in succession. Nova blinked the lashing rain from her eyes and felt a strange sense of nostalgia. It had been an age since the sign to make for the Eastern Havens had rung.

They pushed onward, moving through the streets as they threaded their way through the city. The elegant architecture gave way to open fields, then vast swaths of farmland and orchards before a gate to the outside came into sight.

Black armored guards lined the street on either side as citizens took their place in the center. A handful of horses and dogs stood obediently within their ranks as well. The guards kept careful watch, waiting for the influx of people to settle in between them.

"I thought all of you were trained to fight," George muttered before realizing he'd spoken aloud.

"We are," Nova affirmed. "But should the Enemy try and attack us in such a vulnerable time, we must stand as the bastion between them. It is our sworn duty. Besides, we are armored, our wards are not."

She looked back at them all.

"I must join them. Stay with Aveth; he'll keep you safe," Nova insisted, nodding to the dunmer. He returned the gesture, then gripped her shoulder.

"Be safe," he insisted.

"Run fast, take chances," she smirked, but it was lost amid another explosion of lightning.

"Nova-" Reina worried.

"I swore an oath," Nova said. "In times of crisis-"

A sharp whistle cut through the air above the crackling roil of thunder and rain. Nova turned to see Trentus, who issued a series of three gestures. She replied with an affirmative and returned to Reina's side.

"What-"

"My duty as your bodyguard takes precedence," she declared.

Reina barely hid her relief and the accompanying smile. She… really had a bodyguard?

Gabriel passed them and paused for a brief moment before turning back to lean down to Reina's ear.

"Watch well young miss," he said. "One day this will be your duty."

Reina looked to him and gave a single, solemn nod.

He returned an approving smile before turning away and making his way to the fore of the procession. His currently crimson robes shifted in a sodden mass as he leapt atop a short wall and looked to the assembled masses. When all eyes turned to him, he lifted one hand high into the air. The crowd shifted and moved as people looked around them. After two breath's time, only one hand lifted in response. He expected this and nodded. As the silver haired horn blower trotted to join them, the hand lowered.

He nodded again, pleased. It was a simple system. Each family kept track of its members. If any were missing, they lifted their hand. Then they looked to two other families assigned them and ensured their presence. If a family was missing, again, they lifted their hand. Those few without families melded into an assigned group for evacuation, and with the overall design, it ensured that no one would be left behind without the guard.

"Open the gates," he ordered, leaping down with a lithe grace.

Trentus nodded and repeated the call. The dark wood with its black metal filigree swung open as the guards stood at attention, forming into two columns on either side of the civilians. Trentus himself took the lead as they marched out of the city. Another bolt of lightning erupted with a deep, resonating boom as it struck a nearby spire. The tip flared green for a moment before winking out and the white stone cracked and crumbled, cascading down the wall.

Yet as Reina watched, no one cried out. Sorrowful eyes turned toward it, and a handful of people placed a palm to their chest, but that was all. She marveled at them silently. Even amid the lashing gale, their stances remained straight as they moved with an otherworldly calm. There was no panic, no shouts nor sobs. They carried little in the way of items, and most of those were food and simple necessities. Instead, their hands found family members and the coat of a dog or horse. Together, the procession moved quickly across the open field and transitioned smoothly into the trees.

They came to the first river amid the needled branches. It raged and surged with the soaking rain. Reina bit her lip wondering how in the world they would manage the crossing. Maybe her idea hadn't been so great… Yet a quintet of figures wound their way forward. Pale purple magic glowed at their fingers and spread both over the group and the river alike. The water quelled, turning as smooth as glass for a wide stretch. They stepped across it without pause, those behind them following fearlessly in their wake.

"Nova..." Aveth fretted in a hushed whisper.

"It's fine. Lucerian and his family are some of the best spellcasters you will ever find. Trust in them."

Aveth gave a noncommittal grumble.

Reina and George found that they agreed, and exchanged a dubious glance as they came to the river. Yet the sharp, lashing rain and press of the crowd spurred them on, forcing them to take the first step onto the subtly glowing surface. It held just as solidly as the ground formerly beneath their feet. They hurried onward, making it to the other side with a sigh of relief.

Nova risked a glance backward as the last of the guard cleared the river and it became a surging torrent once more. With a current like that, she smirked, it was unlikely the garm could cross it at all. They would be safe, and yet for some reason, the hair on the back of her neck still prickled.

* * *

The Devourer huffed and seethed, pelting rain steaming from his coat as he paced. Where were they? Those bright whelps should have reached them by now. He'd heard the strange howl that always marked their exodus. So where were the they? Where was his prize!

Almost as if in answer, scampering feet broke from the tree line and sprinted across the sodden field of spiky grass. The smaller garm skidded to a muddy stop and flattened its ears back against its skull, quivering. The Devourer turned his molten gaze to it and huffed out a breath for it to speak. It hurried out a series of barks and yips as its body danced in place. The message was basic, crude, but clear.

So the little creatures were smart…. They did not run to their stone abomination with its high walls. No, they ran for simple caves like the beasts they were.

The Devourer's lips peeled back from his fangs as he growled. The messenger fell to the ground and prostrated its belly with a pitiful whine. He ignored the gesture and prowled on, surging into great loping strides. He barked twice, then loosed another, horrid howl that shuddered across the trees.

He did not look back. The drumming of feet behind him told him his pack followed dutifully. Great swaths of mud flew as his claws raked the ground, his massive strides outdistancing the others easily. A wretched sound met his ears and sent a shiver rippling down his spine.

Before him stretched the sloshing torrent of a great river, vile currents surging across its surface as it rushed and churned. He shivered again and stepped back. Thundering feet played amid the sound as his pack caught up with him and whined at the bank. He shook away his hesitation and snarled at them for their weakness.

He paced, mind working furiously as he glared all the while at the river. His gaze flicked to a tall, long-dead pine, far larger than any of its number. A sweltering breath rippled from him as he very nearly leered.

He barked out an order and scrabbling claws began to dig furiously at the mud around its roots. In short order, the tree began to creak and crack, listing ever so slightly. More of his pack joined the effort, and with a series of cracks to rival the thunder, it toppled to thud heavily onto the opposite bank. He darted across the makeshift bridge at once, the others followed on his heels.

A laugh rumbled from deep in his chest.

* * *

Reina squinted hard through the rain as they climbed the slopes. The steep staircase carved into the stone was somehow not slippery. She would have asked how, but for the moment she was simply grateful for it as she followed behind Nova.

"Doing alright George?" Aveth called from behind her over the rain.

Reina whipped around. "Dad?"

"I'll… be… fine," the innkeeper huffed, pausing for but a moment. "But my legs are going to hate you all tomorrow."

Aveth patted his shoulder and offered his arm.

George promptly waved it away with a grumble. "I'm not _that_ old yet." He resumed climbing with vigor, if only to prove the point.

They crested the stairs and found themselves on a flat expanse covered in swaying pines. There was a bone white spire standing at the head of the stairs. Reina wondered at it for a moment before pushing onward with the others, trudging through trees that provided woefully little cover. At length, they came to a clearing with spiky grass clinging in close tufts. Another spire stood at the edge like a single, forgotten rib. Beyond loomed the rest of the mountain, the shadowy openings of natural caverns spattered across the gentle slope.

Painstakingly formed doorways shielded several of the openings. Comprised of the same black metal they saw everywhere, they were nearly invisible in the shadowed entryways. In a flash of lightning, their detail stood starkly, the banded metal woven along their surfaces lent them a stalwart air. Reina sighed in relief.

"That's it?" muttered George from the side of his mouth.

"Would you prefer to be washed away by the sea or eaten by garm?" Nova asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Have I mentioned how much I love caves?" he grumbled. "Dirty, dark, bat-infested, rat-infested, fall-down-a-hole-and-die caves?"

"Dad," Reina said slowly. "Uncle Hrok is not here. He can't do anything. This cave is perfectly safe."

"And my inn is probably burned to the ground by now," he groused.

"Probably," Reina agreed.

George gave a bitter growl at no one in particular and strode forward. The others followed into the dark depths.

Spells of light flared in many hands and drifted upward, filling the cavernous space with a welcome radiance. Yet Reina couldn't help but notice that half of the guard remained outside and the doors stood open. She watched them through the gap as they took up positions, keeping vigil even in the gale.

Aveth frowned. "Are you certain they're safe?"

"What do you mean?" Nova frowned.

"I mean if I had a choice, I would not be on a mountain slope encased in metal with lightning all around me," he grimaced.

"You haven't been here during a storm," Nova realized, eyes widening before she smoothed her expression and explained. "You saw those spires outside? They're crafted to draw the lightning. Otherwise I doubt we'd be much safer for leaving than remaining sheltered in our homes…. Unless it floods," she remarked in an almost callous summation.

Reina, however, remained silent. Despite having made it to the shelter of the Eastern Havens, she felt no more secure than she had while sequestered in the palace halls. She bit her lip and shuffled closer to Nova. The pounding rain continued, barely muffled by the stone around them. Yet something built beneath it. It was faint at first, carried low beneath the wind. As she listened, it gained strength and form in her ears, manifesting as a dark, grating note. Her feet moved slowly, drawing her closer to the door as she listened.

"Reina?" Nova called.

She did not turn around, continuing until just before she made it out into the rain. The notes were painfully out of tune and drawn out like nails across a sheet of metal. They grew steadily louder, making her eyes scrunch as she staggered. An arm steadied her.

"Reina," Nova pressed, concern warping her features into a fierce frown.

She looked up into the woman's blue eyes. Dread began to clutch at her heart, squeezing as she fought to keep her breathing even. She heard her own voice, thin and hollow. "He's coming."

Nova's eyes widened as she shifted to place herself between Reina and the cave's mouth. She took in a breath and bellowed with an incredible volume. "_Make ready!_"

Trentus turned from among the ranks in the glade and looked to her with a puzzled frown. She nodded once, and that was all it took. With no more hesitation, he hefted his shield and echoed the call. The soldiers drew their weapons, half of them nocking bows while others stood ready with their dark blades instead. Those with shields moved forward alongside Trentus as they took up position in a semi circle around their brethren.

Inside the caves came a shifting as the guard within moved closest to the doors. All of them could not fit in the clearing at once and thus they waited, ready to relieve their fellows at a moment's notice should the need arise.

A sharp crack of lightning was the only sound for an age. Time crawled by for so long that uncertainty began to bubble within Reina, pushing at the dread. But she knew. She _knew_ he would-

The forest came alive, vibrating with inky stains as pinpricks of red danced towards them. The treeline shuddered as garm surged from the undergrowth in a thick mass of black fur and gleaming fangs. The lead beasts slammed into the shields, snapping and clawing with cacophonous baying. The garm behind them leapt into the air, some off of the very backs of their brethren. They arced over the shield bearers with gaping jaws. Arrows found them en masse, littering the elven ranks with corpses before dissolving into mist.

More leapt to the same effect as a fresh wave harrowed the shield ranks. The first scream rang out amid the baying before it all devolved into chaos. Teeth and blades savaged in a volatile array until a singular figure emerged from the trees. The wolf was large, standing to a man's shoulder, its stance strong and confident. But it was the ember eyes that set it apart, filled with a dark malice and dire promise. It bared its fangs as it-_he_ loosed a horrific howl.

The Devourer.

Reina stepped back with a shiver, trembling under the weight of his stare. And there was no mistake. He stared directly at her. She knew it with a certainty that threatened to shatter her into a thousand pieces. The others were a nuisance; _she_ was the prize.

Trentus gaped at the beast. The memory of fangs and screams hit him with a force to crush the breath from his lungs. All at once, the palace was aflame again, the guard desperately pursuing a loathsome shadow through the halls. Lucinda. They had to get to her before the beast did. Trentus threw the memory away with a warrior's resolve and planted his feet. He called for his soldiers to reform their scattered line, swallowing hard as he stared down the dark specter of their past. Meeting the burning eyes was like sticking his hands in a bed of embers and holding them there. Arrows peppered the great beast, but the thing hardly seemed to notice.

Reina could not tear her wide eyes away. The singular thought repeated through her head in an endless cycle. He was here to kill her. He and the garm wanted _her_. _The others were a nuisance; _she_ was the prize._ It was too much. Back at the Senge, half of their party had died to protect her. Now, still more would die. She could not allow it. She simply couldn't. An idea took root in her head with tiny tendrils that blossomed and grew. It was reckless, and foolish, and everything she would ever chastise another person for doing. But… she had to. She could not stand back and let anyone else die because of her.

Reina ran.

She sprinted out into the rain, skidding on the grass as she turned and cut a path between the mountain and the glade.

"Hey, you ugly brute!" she called over her shoulder as she pushed past the startled guards.

Nova was right on her heels, grabbing for her, but Reina's fear lent her a speed she would have thought impossible.

"I'm over here!" she huffed. "Come on!"

The Devourer snarled and loosed an indignant baying. The sound could have woken the dead, then shattered their bones.

Tears came to Reina's eyes as she panted. She blinked them away hastily and pushed herself harder.

"Reina stop! This is madness!" Nova screamed above the gale, an edge of terror in her voice that the barmaid had never heard before. It almost made her forsake her plan.

Nova risked a single glance back as she ran, conjuring a light. A pack of garm pursued on their heels, snapping and howling. The guard shifted, pouring from the caves, but so many of the beasts remained in the field, none of them could break through to aid her. Arrows flew and swords left great arks of black blood, but the warriors made no progress through the ever-pressing throng. Nova's eyes snapped back to the great, hulking beast before she gasped at the gleam of a silvery blade and dagger.

"Aveth!" she screamed, skidding to a halt. How did he- How had he…. No. Spirits, no.

A strident bark cut her from her stupor as more of the beasts flocked to join the pursuit. She wheeled and drove herself hard, nearly catching up with Reina as she dashed through the trees. Reina turned and angled down the steep, forested slope, nearly flying. Nova grimaced, but feared calling out lest she distract the woman from her task. The last thing either of them needed was a broken leg. Even so, she had to admit that Reina was… remarkably sure-footed.

Reina's feet hit the bottom and she ran on, air burning in her lungs. A dim part of her mind was grateful for all the countless days she'd had to quite literally run to class through the city and up and down all the stairways. She pushed the errant thought away as she caught the sound of the river in the distance. It was the second one they'd crossed, much like the first though its current considerably faster. She turned right, running upstream. Nova ran behind her, mercifully no longer trying to stop her. Yet the drumming of innumerable feet trailing them only grew louder. It called something from deep within, a primal fear that pushed her well past the limits of her endurance and let her run on down the bank. Surging water roiled past them, dark with mud.

Reina blocked all of it out. She had to focus. It was here somewhere. She knew it, and now she just had to find it!

* * *

The Devourer raged, seething breaths setting the damp air steaming. He glared menacingly at the warriors who dared challenge him. His eyes could not see the ashen skin of the first, instead it was a figure shaped in mercifully dim light. The second's gray hair was equally lost to a wealth of light slightly brighter. It bore a rather annoying shield that raised his hackles in irritation. No matter how he snapped and moved and clawed, he was always foiled from killing them! It was far beyond an irritation now. _Now_ they were challenging his dominance over this island in fighting him, in daring to keep him from his prey. He would not allow it. Already his pack cast him looks of fear and doubt. The smarter among them eyed him with ambition, as if they were hoping he would be left so wounded they could simply tear out his throat and supplant him themselves.

He would _not_ allow it.

His quarry could wait another heartbeat to die. After all, these little whelps could hardly cross the river without their pitiful magic that left the air tasting like bile in its wake. No, those conjurers were here. The fire that struck his coat was testament to that. His prey would not escape. She was trapped like the cowering doe she was. He could take his time… and savor the kill.

A silvery dagger came for his eye. He leered and snapped out with all of his speed. This time the creature was not able to dance just out of reach as before. No, _th__is_ time his jaws clamped hard on the pitifully armored arm and splintered the bones within. A swath of blood washed into his mouth and he felt a churning satisfaction as the miserable creature screamed. A black blade speared into his throat in response, barely more than a scratch. His eyes flicked almost lazily toward the source before he wheeled and snapped for the interloper only to be barred again by that wretched shield. The Devourer gathered himself and leapt, wielding all of his body weight to knock the whelp to the ground. The man thrust the shield up below his jaw and into his soft throat. The Devourer seethed, searing saliva dripping down the offending object. It stopped his teeth, but he still had his claws and he used them to full effect, savaging the black armor and the man within.

* * *

Reina's chest burned, each frantic step bringing more agony. She cursed herself for her folly of a plan that would only get her and Nova killed. She cursed the garm and the fact that they didn't seem to tire. Yet her most volatile swear was saved for the Devourer and sheer fact that it existed. Then… she prayed. Not to any being in particular, but a desperate plea to any ethereal entity who was listening.

Almost in answer, she saw something bobbing wildly atop the river's surface, just within the ring of Nova's light spell. She didn't have the breath to cheer, nor the energy to smile, but she offered her silent thanks as the shapes of logs atop the water became clear. They were held by a sturdy net lashed across the river. It was strained with their wild pull as the solid mass seemed to shift as one entity rather than numerous.

On the other side of the bank was a simple, sturdy building. In the back of her mind, she knew it had been built with meticulous care so that alone in the wilds, it could easily weather a garm attack. There was a wooden rise on the building's side with a saw blade in the center. The water wheel attached to the platform spun rapidly with a low hum as the current pushed it.

Reina reached the mass of logs and leapt with a grimace. Locked with the others of its kind, the log was far more stable underfoot than she imagined. She pushed on, scampering from one to the other.

Nova swore under her breath and paused. Her light spell flickered out, forcing her to recast it. She sent a second careening toward the garm, the sudden illumination staggering them only briefly. Nova grimaced and turned back to the logs with a swear, but had little choice save to follow Reina. Her heavy armor set her sinking before she bounded to the next log, issuing a new swear with each step. Garm scrabbled up behind her, yipping and howling. They had no such reservations about this, it seemed.

Reina reached the other bank with a gasp of relief and searched for a moment. There! Near the net was a lever, no doubt used to lower it beneath the river's surface.

She waited just until Nova's foot hit the bank, then heaved on the lever with all her might.

It didn't move.

"Oh come on!" Reina screamed to the air. "You have _got_ to be kidding me!"

Nova was already moving, lifting her sword high as she hacked down at the net. One of the ropes lashing it to the post in the river sliced free and she raised her sword for the other below the water line. Her blade plunged into the muddy depths, losing power as the wall of water beat at it. Her strike frayed the rope and left it clinging by threads. The pull of the straining of logs snapped the rest, sending the churning mass downstream.

The garm scrabbled and howled, issuing strident cries before the rolling logs plunged them into the depths and whisked them downstream in a chaotic mass. One in mid-jump scrabbled with a pealing whine before it fell into the river and sank instantly. Its churning paws broke the surface only briefly, before it was gone. Nova grinned with satisfaction and missed the blur of shadow.

Reina didn't.

She drew her dagger and stabbed wildly, the surging rush of her momentum knocking the leaping garm off course as it latched its teeth around the warrior's upper arm rather than her neck.

Nova cried out as the jaws clamped hard, teeth breaking through her armor.

"Dagger!" she called, dropping her blade and holding out her hand.

Reina passed over her weapon at once.

Nova plunged the dagger in between the beast's jaws near the back of its mouth and twisted with all her might, levering its mouth open. It fell to the ground with a gurgling scream amid its black blood and tried to scramble back up.

A gleaming blade speared it, sending it collapsing into mist. Nova looked up to see Reina with her fallen sword in hand. Its body dissolved, and with it the blood clinging to their weapons. For a moment, neither of them moved, breathing heavily amid the lashing rain. Nova passed the dagger back, taking her sword in hand. Chastisements surfaced in her mind, but she pushed them aside for the moment, choosing instead to wrap one arm around Reina and draw her close.

"Don't ever, _ever_, do that again," she panted.

Reina hugged her hard without a word. She'd had to…

Nova guided them into the mill, breathing hard. Ancestors, there wasn't enough air in the world. But was it from running or the fatigue of supreme relief? She scoffed at the thought and shut the door behind them. Whines and baying sounded from the opposite bank as the rest of the pack realized it had been foiled. Nova ignored them. They weren't a threat anymore.

The inside of the mill was warm and dry, its wood floors giving off a subtle, sweet scent. Nova conjured a light and sent it drifting upward. She made her way to a cupboard on the wall marked with the symbol of a sun and opened it. Heavy black cloths within made way at her searching touch before milky crystals were revealed. They gave off a gentle glow as she set them around the modest room.

* * *

The Devourer snarled, baring his gaping jaws as he roared. Another blade cut into his flank, leaving a weeping gash. There were too many of these little insects. If only half his foolish pack hadn't loped off after the wretched queen. His eyes smoldered like his searing breath. He snapped and twisted, clawed and maimed with every blow, but for as many of the creatures that he felled, more always came pouring from the caves. So like skeevers. Creeping, skulking and barely worth a meal. At least he'd hunted _them_ into extinction on his island.

His head sagged almost imperceptibly. Conjuring such a storm was… taxing. Compounded with the battle, and working to corrupt gems within his belly all at once, well… He shook the thought away like water from his coat. He was not so _weak_! Still, the breaths he loosed turned more and more ragged as time passed. An arrow glanced off his head, leaving a narrow track in his thick, matted fur, making him growl anew.

His ears flicked back of their own accord, catching a sound so faint, he barely heard it. There beneath the raging wind came a chorus of yowling, distant and panicked. Then, just as quickly, it vanished, only to return in choked, halting notes that sputtered through the air. His eyes widened.

His pack.

He spun away, back into the trees. Massive strides carried him across the muddy forest floor, following the disjointed cries. What had she done? What had that wretched little queen _done_!? He skidded down the mountainside without care, spying one of the bright creature's garish dens across the river. His lips snarled, but he spared only a glance for the area. Curse her and all her bright kin! He would… he would find her later. He had to find his pack first!

A clattering caught his ears and he turned to see a mass of logs barreling downstream. His legs pushed him onward without hesitation, despite the fatigue that gnawed at his bones. He squinted, eyes piercing the night to spy a black coat sinking fast into the water. With a great bound, he launched himself into the river, his massive form able to stand against the pulling tide better than his brethren as his paws sunk deep into the muddy bed. He snapped out with his teeth, grabbing the garm by the scruff of its neck and casting it to the nearby shore with the fluid toss of his head. He panted with the effort, but he did not stop. His kin. His pack. He needed them. He could not kill these vile bright-things without them.

Besides... the only one allowed to kill these miserable pups was _him_. He pushed on down the river, his body crying as he went.

* * *

Nova winced as Reina carefully cleaned her arm.

"It bit you deeply," she winced. "I'm afraid you'll need stitches for it to properly heal."

Nova's face soured for a moment before she sighed and nodded. She kept still as Reina wrapped a cloth around the wound and tied the ends tightly.

"Thank you," she offered, absently rubbing it before she winced and retracted her hand.

"You're welcome," Reina said with a gentle smile. "Sorry I dragged you into all of this."

Nova bit her lip.

"You know that was reckless, and foolish, and could have gotten you killed, right?"

"And it might not have actually worked if the garm hadn't followed me," Reina offered.

"Or any number of things had gone wrong along the way..."

"I know," Reina whispered solemnly. "I just..."

"What?" Nova pressed, not unkindly.

"I couldn't stand back and let them die. Not for me. Not again."

Nova reached out her good arm and pulled Reina close.

"You need to stop with all of these daring and noble feats," she groused. "I lost you once. I can't-" Nova snapped her mouth shut as she realized what she was about to say. She cleared her throat. "At- at any rate, we'll be safe here for the night."

"Oh?" Reina asked, arching a mischievous eyebrow. "But I'm trapped in a room with a big scary vampire."

Nova retracted her arm and gave a playful shove.

"You're so funny," she said dryly with a roll of her eyes.

Reina chuckled and resettled herself facing Nova on the floor.

Nova looked away out the narrow window reinforced with black metal leaves climbing up it. The river bank was empty and the air silent save for the storm, but still she watched with rapt interest. If she didn't… Reina was too close, and they were entirely alone. Even as she tried to banish it from her mind, she could only remember the feel of her lips. Ancestors preserve her… She swallowed hard, not entirely sure she trusted herself right now.

Reina frowned at Nova, the warrior's eyes dark with something she could not name. She reached out a hand and settled it over the woman's own.

Nova started in surprise, all but vaulting up as she stood and paced. She could not, should not, _must_ not. That was her queen!

Reina rose and caught her gently, turning her face to her own.

"I can't," Nova pleaded.

There it was again. That sadness in her eyes, her voice. That festering sorrow. Yet Reina said nothing, pulling her into a hug instead, hoping to soothe with action what words could not. A small part of her enjoyed the feel of the warrior's muscles, free of her armor as she was, but Reina cast aside the thought at once.

"Will you sit beside me?" she asked.

Nova hesitated, taking half a step back. "I..."

Reina released her and sat again, patting the floor encouragingly.

"I'd like to hear about when you were younger," she said softly, mercifully offering them both a topic to shift their focus. "Any good stories in there? I've got a few myself."

Nova swallowed hard again. There was definitely not enough air in the room. Still, she sank slowly and sat across from the woman.

It was a small step, and Reina was more than happy with it. Right now… she sensed patience would be her greatest ally. And for this? She would wait as long as needed, stealing ahead as Nova allowed, all with an unyielding determination. She'd never been one to give up, after all.

Reina began a story. It wasn't her best one, she was saving that for later.

Nova nodded once, then managed a soft chuckle in the middle of the tale. With each line the tension slowly eased from her. Reina continued, telling her about a boy who had been foolish enough to tease her as a child. Her father had put an excellent stop to that by baking the boy a meat pie.

"A meat pie?" Nova frowned, brow furrowing.

"And waiting until he'd eaten half of it to tell him it was filled with the last little boy who made me cry," Reina smirked.

Nova's face split into a wicked grin.

"He never bothered me again," Reina announced. "In fact, he went out of his way to avoid me."

Nova's leer did not fade. Maybe she should get George something nice for such a devious ploy….

"Your turn," Reina insisted with a smile, keeping a gentle distance between them.

Nova hesitated. A story. A story? Yes, that was… she could do that. For Reina. Somber memories came to her first, then the painful ones. She pushed them away and smiled softly as she found one worthy of sharing with Reina.

"I suppose it was when Trentus was looking after me. I'd just failed probably my third archery session. It was raining, I was cold, and miserable. I wanted to cry… or snap the stupid bow in half. And then I was scared that the other trainees would make fun of me for it. But I turned around and Trentus was there. Just… there. Not expecting, or judging." She frowned in thought. "I think he knew."

"Knew?" Reina pressed softly.

"What it was like to grow up as…" she bit off the word. "As someone like us."

Reina reached out a hand but stopped as Nova continued.

"He was always there. Looking after me, teaching me, keeping the others from…. Well, children can be cruel, you know?"

Reina nodded and hummed an affirmative.

"But I felt… safe," Nova finished in a whisper barely audible. She looked to Reina for a moment before she swore under her breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Sorry, I guess that's not really a happy story, is it? But it really meant a lot to me…"

"It's all right," Reina assured quickly. Rather than let silence claim the space, she dove into another story, eyes watching the warrior all the while.

Nova settled back and let the soft words wash over her like a warm embrace.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Trial and Iteration

Reina stared out the arched windows of the palace, watching the people below beginning the task of cleaning up the cluttered debris and rebuilding their homes with the same expressions they wore each morning. By some miracle, the number of lives lost had been mercifully few, though well over three score of wounded kept the healers in a frenzy. But those had more to do with the fangs of monsters rather than nature's wrath….

She took a deep, steadying breath, and immediately grimaced at the smell of horse that wafted from her clothes. The dawn's light had brought with it soldiers on horseback. She'd blinked at them in disbelief for a moment, wondering how they'd found her sequestered in a mill. Then she realized the tracks of nearly two dozen garm hadn't been particularly hard to follow.

A gentle knock sounded on her door. At her bid, it swung open to reveal Gabriel, dressed in a set of russet orange robes.

"May I come in?" he asked.

"Of course!" Reina nodded. She eyed the book in his arm with a passing curiosity before looking back to him.

He hesitated for a brief moment, then spoke in a soft tone. "If you would like… I have some plans here for the allocation of resources to help everyone… what is your expression… get back on their feet? I could show you how such things are done, and why particularly they are done in such a manner."

Reina studied him for but a moment before giving a firm nod.

"I would like that," she said.

He favored her with an approving smile and set the book on her desk, opening the cover to remove several loose papers heavily laden with a precise penmanship. "Then let's begin."

* * *

Nova threw her arms around Aveth and hugged him tightly.

"Ow," he protested, wincing.

"Sorry!" she hissed, settling into a seat beside his bed. The healer's ward was warm and bright, filled with soft beds partially hidden from view of one another by gossamer white fabrics draped delicately from the ceiling. Splashes of green came from trailing strands of ivy, though its source was unseen.

"It's fine," he assured, though his eyes scrunched as he leaned back into the pillows. "Just a bit sore."

"When is your next treatment?" she pressed.

Aveth paused and lifted his arm for study. Pale gray burns marred the charcoal skin around his wrist.

"I'm scheduled for this afternoon. But they intend to keep me longer." He paused as if considering his next words carefully. "They say they can heal the wound itself… but these marks… these burns. They do not fade, despite the healers' best efforts." He lowered his arm with a thin frown. "I never thought I'd meet a wound that neither magic nor medicine could cure."

Nova lowered her eyes, clasping her hands as she draped her arms on her knees. "Do they hurt?"

"No," he assured quickly, shaking his head. "Not anymore."

"Good," she breathed, closing her eyes tightly. "That's… good."

Silence.

Aveth paused and licked his lips.

"Have you… been to see Trentus?" he asked carefully.

Nova's face fell as she nodded and answered in a whisper. "He's too blasted old for this. He should be living out his life doing something peaceful! Like… fishing or… quilting..."

A smile crept onto Aveth's lips.

"Most men don't sew," he quipped gently.

Nova huffed a soft laugh gratefully in turn.

"More's the pity, it's a useful skill."

"Indeed, but how was he?"

She winced, smile vanishing as the topic was pulled back.

"The Healers were with him when I went. I only caught a glimpse before they pushed me out, but… I… I've never seen burns like that…. The scratches though. They managed to heal those at least." She took a deep breath and exhaled through her nose. The proper word was 'mauling' but she couldn't bear to use it. "The healers assured he'd make a full recovery, but it will take time."

"He'll pull through," Aveth asserted. "He's tough."

"Of course!" Nova insisted forcefully, then nodded several times for good measure. She paused for a long moment.

"Reina is well?" Aveth asked.

"Yes, thank the Ancestors."

"That was quite a…"

"Reckless plan?"

"I was going to go with bold strategy, but that also applies."

"Speaking of, what on the Far Shore were you doing charging out there at the Devourer!" she hissed, lifting her hand to hit his arm, but hurriedly retracting it. "You could have been killed!"

"I was not about to sit back and let them fight it alone," he said, meeting her eyes with unwavering determination.

"We are trained for it!" she reminded pointedly.

"That's irrelevant."

"You're irrelevant."

He rolled his eyes.

"In any case, this Devourer seemed to have become more a legend than reality in most minds."

"Whose minds?" she scoffed. "Name three. We are not so foolish. Just because something hasn't appeared before us, or happened in the last few centuries, doesn't mean that it didn't or that it won't happen again."

"Alright, point taken," he placated, holding up his hands and wincing at the gesture. He paused, then blinked as he recalled something. "And by the way? We owe Laurel at least dinner. Probably something fancier."

"Did I insult her lineage?" Nova asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, someone had to keep George from running out after his daughter last night and neither of us took up the task."

Nova blinked, then paled slightly.

"I'll… get her something nice," she insisted. She placed her hands on her knees and pushed herself up. "But for now, I'll let you get some rest."

"But it's boring here," he complained.

As if on cue, she passed him a book from the satchel at her side.

"And now, I no longer need you," he teased with a wicked grin. "Thank you."

"Now stay in bed," she insisted firmly, patting his foot as she passed.

"Hmph, mothering hen," he quipped as she strode away.

Nova rolled her eyes and made for the door. She walked through the streets, skirting debris scattered across the path. The stalwart stone houses had fared remarkably well under the assault, but the surrounding trees had not been so fortunate. They bore garish scars where limbs had been torn from them and scattered like a child's toys in a tantrum. The only true casualty to their infrastructure aside from the lightning-shattered spires had been the bakery and a handful of houses, the former crushed by a tree that had uprooted and toppled in the storm, the later impacted by the raining stones of the spires. As she passed an intersection, she caught a glimpse of dozens of hands all working together to rebuild and even expand it. Nova smiled and continued her journey.

The palace stood tall, its imposing towers unfettered by the storm's onslaught. She made her way up quickly, strong steps carrying her through the halls and between the myriad of people. Her path paused at Reina's door as she gave a knock.

"Enter."

She stepped in to find Gabriel and Reina at her desk. There were papers strewn about it and an open tome. Reina herself was writing furiously as Gabriel spoke in his usual, serene tone.

"But we can't take too much from this account or we won't be able to afford repairs to the docks next season."

"And without fishing and trade, even as selective as it is, the island would not be half as prosperous," she surmised.

"Very good," he praised.

Nova opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again just to fail all the same. Gabriel was training her now? Was there anyone left on the island who doubted Reina's legitimacy? She fought the burgeoning twitch of her eye. She was going to kick down the door to the Sanctum, stick her head into the Well, and yell until they agreed to just crown her already! Of course, then she'd have to figure out how to properly yell underwater, or whatever that glowing stuff was... Irrelevant. She huffed a breath before striding over and grabbing Gabriel by the arm.

"Excuse me, I need to borrow him for a moment," she apologized to Reina.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Gabriel asked.

"No," she refuted.

"Oh good," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes and pulled him into the hall, shutting the door before she continued dragging him a handful of paces down the hallway. When she stopped abruptly, he met her with a searching gaze.

"You're _training_ her now!?" Nova hissed. "You see! She. Is. Lucinda!" she insisted pointedly. "I know it, you know it. Everyone knows it! Spirits, even s_he_ must!"

"Nova-" he tried, but she hurried on.

"So we need to find a way to… to… I don't know! We go down to the Well and-"

"Nova," he tried again.

"The Ancestors have to-"

He grabbed her face in both hands and turned her stare up to his calm, green eyes.

"Nova. I've already found a way," he said.

She blinked, gaped, and immediately slapped his arm as he let go.

"Why didn't you tell me!" she protested.

His response was a single, raised eyebrow.

She glared and took a deep, soothing breath.

"I'm… sorry," she felt she should offer. "What do we need to do?"

"Follow me, if you would," Gabriel replied, gesturing.

As they returned to Reina's room, they found the door open and George inside. The innkeeper's face was lit with mirth.

"And _then_, this tiny little apprentice tries to tell me that I've got my proportions mixed up. So of course I propose we both make one and have the head chef try them. Now, old Grumble Face seems like she's mean, but once you get to know her, well, I suppose she still is, but anyway, she tries each of them, and then just glares at us."

"Who won?" Reina pressed.

"She hated them both," he cheerfully exclaimed. "Turns out she doesn't eat meat."

They burst out laughing at the same time.

"I can picture her face," Reina professed.

"Well that's not hard, she only scowls."

They laughed again.

"If I may," Gabriel interrupted. "I know this seems sudden, but Reina, if you feel it is time, if you feel you are ready, I believe I may have found a way for you to be confirmed by the Ancestors, even without the stone."

Reina and George blinked.

Nova winced in sympathy. That was probably a statement one gave preamble for, or at least… _some_ warning. But what did she know?

Gabriel however, did not relent.

"But this must be your choice. As I understand it, it may be dangerous. Thus, if you wish to wait, such knowledge will never leave this room," Gabriel continued.

Reina gaped for a moment, then closed her mouth and frowned in thought.

"Well," she finally replied. "I'm not about to leave it hanging over my head. And this way we'll know for sure whether or not I really am… her."

"Now wait a moment!" George insisted, puffing out his chest. "You can't… I mean, if she is, does she have to stay here forever then? I don't think-"

Gabriel held up one hand, forestalling further comment.

"The bond to the Well must be reforged first. Only then can she choose whether to embrace it or revoke it to return to her old life." He turned to Reina. "There will be no shame in it if you do."

"So I've got nothing to lose," she nodded, forcing a smile despite feeling as if she'd swallowed a horde of raging butterflies.

Gabriel winced.

"I… should mention that the process… may kill you."

"What!" Nova and George roared as one, the former issuing a solid strike to his arm.

"Why didn't you say that in the _first_ place!" Nova yelled. "She is _not_-"

"It's fine," Reina assured.

"It's not fine; it's not happening!" George countered, curling his fists.

She ignored them both and looked to Gabriel before she strode past them.

"Let's go."

They all blinked after her.

"This way," Gabriel offered, taking the lead.

Nova and George scrambled to catch up.

Reina felt the burgeoning tide of protests building at her back and actually smiled. At another time, such concern would be sweet.

"Dad, Nova," she called softly. "I need you to believe in me right now. I can do this. It's going to be alright."

From the corner of her eye, she saw them both deflate like sails robbed of wind.

"Of course you can," George insisted. "But-"

Nova set a hand on his shoulder. They exchanged a solemn look that neither of them liked.

"Of course you can," she echoed.

* * *

The stairs spiraled on without end, draped in a cloying silence. The only light was the torch Gabriel carried, a meager flame that battered against the dark in a desperate attempt.

"How much farther?" George wondered.

"Not long now," the steward assured.

Nova trailed her fingers along the rough stone walls as they gained a familiar blue sheen. They were nearing the Sanctum. She found herself wishing Aveth was with them to see her Ancestors in their glory, but she set the desire aside with a sigh. Best not tempt fate just yet. Outsiders were not permitted to see the Well. She hoped it was simply old superstition, but could not shake the mental image of wrathful phantasms rising from the ether. Having George and Reina to protect would be enough of a challenge, though as for how she might defeat her own Ancestors… she had no idea.

Her foot hit the last step and she looked up from her musing in surprise. Gabriel paused with a bow as the first brazier down the wide hall lit with a turquoise flame. She frowned in thought. Maybe she should have done the same on her last visit. She shrugged, bowed, and continued, following in his footsteps as he progressed toward the door. She tried to glance subtly at Reina but gleaned nothing from the woman's expression. Nova sighed to herself and continued forward.

Reina's lips parted at the dark hall as the braziers came alive. A shiver of familiarity ran down her spine at the sight. George's hand touched her shoulder with a calm reassurance as she drew in a breath. She hurried her steps without conscious thought until they came to a grand door. Nova and Gabriel pushed it aside and they entered a circular room adorned with extraordinary murals. In the center of the floor there was a pool of water that glowed vibrantly, lighting the entirety of the space. Something pulled at her with gentle hands, leading her toward the shimmering surface. Nova held out an arm to block her passage. She cast a searching gaze to the warrior. Did she not understand? This was…

The luminescent waters bubbled and sent up gentle coils that wove themselves into a single form. Nova recognized the feminine figure that had appeared to her earlier, or at least as much as one could recognize a shimmering, ethereal phantasm.

George uncrossed his disapproving arms and gaped. So… their Ancestors weren't just an expression... Good to know.

"Welcome, our children," it greeted warmly, spreading its arms wide.

"Venerable One, you honor us," Gabriel said with a bow.

"You needn't be so formal," it chuckled sweetly in its myriad of voices. "What brings you here?"

Nova's eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips. She was willing to bet her blade that they already knew the answer.

"We wish to bond our queen with the Well, if you will permit it," Gabriel said with another bow.

Reina did not react as he gestured to her. Her focus was entirely fixed upon the spirit.

"As I have read it, all she need do is drink from the Well itself. Though such a thing… may prove… dangerous."

The phantom watched them for a long moment, then raised a single eyebrow.

"You _are_ joking, yes?"

Gabriel blinked and stepped back. "If I have caused offense, I humbly apologize."

The figure waved aside his words with a scoff.

"This Sanctum was once open to all, including very young children, who don't quite understand the concept of not drinking the 'pretty glowing water' even if it is entirely disrespectful to us. And indeed, I think it would become quite troublesome to have an army of anointed five-year-olds."

"I'm inclined to agree with you," Nova offered with a low grumble and internal shudder.

The figure ignored them all and turned to Reina as if she were the only one in the room, drifting to her and setting a hand on her cheek.

"Welcome especially to you, dear child. Separated, but never separate," it whispered, its mouth opening to say more before clamping shut as if deciding better of it. Instead, it offered, "If you seek this path, you will find it. But it will only open if you are ready."

"I am," she vowed.

The motherly face smiled, then turned to Nova and smoothed into neutrality.

"Child, the amulet," it beckoned with an outstretched hand.

Nova blinked for a moment, tilting her head sideways. "Oh!" she realized at once, reaching up to her neck and removing the crystalline necklace. The small leaf glimmered as it reflected the Well's light. The necklace vanished from her grasp and reappeared in the phantom's fingers as they secured the chain around Reina's neck.

The spectral hand reached out again across the Well. The mural of a tree lit as magic danced across its outline before the entire stone vanished, leaving an empty maw of darkness.

"What's in there?" George demanded.

The phantom ignored him, looking directly at Reina.

"This is the path of the First. You will walk as Geledriel did, before the gem was removed from..." It paused and chuckled ruefully. "You will see."

"What… _is_ in there?" Reina asked, echoing her father.

"It is different for all, those few who have walked it, at least," the figure answered. "Admittedly… even I do not know what you will find within. But what you will see… it will push you, test you. Perhaps not so much in body as in spirit. But you will know what you seek when you find it."

"I'm going with you," Nova insisted at once.

"No," came Reina's calm reply. It resonated with authority, all without her needing to raise her voice. "I need to do this myself. Don't I?"

The phantom nodded once, slowly.

Reina turned toward the door. "Besides, if I'm going to lead an entire people, I'm going to have to learn to stand on my own two feet." Her words surprised even herself, but she pushed forward, striding for the door. She squeezed Nova's hand as she passed.

George sighed through his nose and forced a grin. "That's my girl. You show them what you're made of."

Reina turned with a warm smile and a nod before delving into the shadows.

* * *

Her footsteps made far more noise in the darkness than she would have liked. She went slowly, feeling her way while the number of unpleasant things she could run into bubbled to the surface of her mind. Reina swallowed hard and pushed them down.

The path sloped slightly upward as she kept a hand to the smooth stone wall. Slowly, her eyes began to adjust to the dark, and she found herself able to discern a faint glow that shimmered ahead on the tunnel's floor, so meager, she hardly noticed it. As she walked, it gained clarity, and the thin, snaking line of something liquid formed, trailing back as far as she could see. She welcomed the pale radiance. A seemingly endless tunnel met her stare, undulating and widening sporadically. The glow shifted and danced along the walls like sunlight on water. Its scintillating light wavered before her, filling her vision. She blinked heavily, staggering against the wall.

And then she was falling.

_ Faint screams echoed in her ears. On their heels came the scent of smoke as her city burned._

_ "It cannot end like this…" The words were her own, spoken with a calm she did not feel._

_ "It won't!" Nova promised. Yet… she knew the warrior well enough to hear the fear hiding behind the bravado._

_ She had to block it out. Reina closed her eyes with a heavy sigh in a heartbeat that dragged on forever. She reached out her magic, sending it careening down through the palace walls and far beneath its stone foundations. It touched something that thrummed like a heartbeat._

_ The Well pulsed, and from its depths came over a dozen separate consciousnesses. They swirled around her, all speaking at once. Each of them seemed to echo a thought within her own mind, until one by one, they fell silent and left only a single, aged voice._

'Lucinda...'

'Elisideen,' _Reina breathed. _'My city is burning. My people are dying. The Devourer walks these very halls… Tell me there is a way. Tell me what to do!'

_ Again came the frenzied murmuring, but again they fell silent. As one, they shied from her mind ever so slightly, as if rueful to answer._

_ She did not let them flee. '_Please_.'_

_ Another pause reigned for an entire age and half a heartbeat. At last, her predecessor, her mentor, came forward._

'It will cost you your life, my child.'

'Will it work?' _she pressed._

_ A new voice rose, this of a woman, sharp and commanding._

'Such a spell is theoretical at best! Even we do not know what consequences it might herald.'

_ Elisideen dismissed the words._

'Your body will channel all of our power, or as much as you can withstand. It will drive the abominations from the city all at once!' _he triumphed. _'Fear not, we shall cradle your soul until a new vessel can be found. You will be reborn among our people and once more take your place as queen.'

'Such a thing could take centuries!'

'Do not forget the stars must match her birth-'

'Nor that we will be left weakened!'

'Indeed! You risk too-'

'It must be done,' _Reina insisted, cutting into the scathing argument and hoping they could not sense her fear, nor the overwhelming sorrow._

_ Words left her lips as she spoke again to Nova. She tried to console the warrior, or perhaps to console herself. Yet Nova's pleas threatened to shatter her where she stood._

_ "I will be reborn in time..." she tried to offer._

_ She had to do this. But… the gnawing fear remained. If it did take centuries… Nova would not survive. Reina fought back stinging tears with leviathan effort._

_ "My only regret…" she managed, "will be losing you."_

_ "I will wait for you. I will find you." Nova's eyes did not waver._

_ Their solemn conviction lent her strength. If there was a way, Nova would find it. The warrior had never broken a promise yet…._

_ Reina had to believe that._

_ Clinging to that promise, she drew herself up with regal poise and forced a smile as she stepped back._

_ Reina gathered the magic, surging waves building within her. She felt the first, agonizing crack within her bones, then nothing more as the volatile spell destroyed her._

_ And then she was drifting. It was a dark void, bereft of anything, but strangely peaceful in that. An unfamiliar hand offered a delicate nudge on her listless course, and she closed her eyes against the weariness that built within her. Voices came, but she was… so very far away now…_

'Do we have her?'

'Where is she?'

'What has happened?'

'Tell me you have her!'

_ Within the Well, Elisideen's very soul trembled._

'She has… slipped from our grasp.'

Reina's eyes opened slowly as she blinked heavily and tried to push herself up. There was a dull ache in her arm as she pulled it from underneath her, but the pain paled against the memory.

"I died," Reina whispered. She stayed there on her hands and knees as her wide eyes stared at the luminescent trail trickling beneath her. The soft sloshing mingled with her shuddering, too-loud breaths and marked the age-long passage of time as she remained eerily still.

She took a steadying breath, her racing heart finally slowing.

"I died," she said again. "But… that's alright… It is." She swallowed hard. "Because… after that I got to be with Mom and Dad. And Nova found me again. Just like she promised. Everything… everything worked out alright."

Reina gritted her teeth with determined effort and pushed herself up. This knowledge would not break her. She would not let it. It was just… something that had happened. It was in the past… and the past couldn't harm her unless she dwelt within it. She had to live in the present, live for this moment, live _in_ this moment. Because despite everything, _this_ moment was a good one, and she would not rob from it to let the past drag her down. She had to continue. For the future. For Nova….

Reina flushed scarlet and shook her head, hurrying forward along the uneven path. The shallow trail of glowing water widened marginally, becoming almost a creek as she went, lost amid her own spiraling thoughts.

Nova brushed past her in the gloom. Reina stopped short and blinked in confusion, but smiled nonetheless and opened her mouth to call a greeting. Yet something wasn't quite right… The warrior looked somewhat younger, and along her body ran a ghostly sheen. Reina's face fell in understanding as the tunnel faded away, leaving the warm orange of a merry firelight crackling before her. It shone upon a group of strangely garbed people, adorned with mismatch trappings of hard armors and colorful clothing.

One of them lifted a small chest into his lap and patted it like a loyal dog. Another chest sat across the fire, and a nearby wagon sank into the muddy soil with the weight of its goods. The distant sound of the sea reached them, but it was lost in raucous laughter and odd music.

The man removed the chest from his lap and lifted his cup. The others joined him in a toast and began to recount tales. His face fell into a frown and he held up a hand, standing slowly as he caught sight of a black armored figure just outside the ring of firelight.

"You betrayed us," Nova said, voice dark yet dispassionate.

They took up arms in an instant, still Nova remained motionless.

"We trusted you, let you into our homes, and made you rich. Yet you chose to steal from us. I don't understand it, and I'm not sure that I care to, but I've come to give you a chance. Return what you stole, and we part ways."

"So the little Elf Queen sent her shaggy dog to fetch?" the merchant chuckled. "How rich."

"No," Nova refuted in that same low tone. "My queen is content to sever ties with you and leave it at that. I, however, am not so forgiving. There was a bracelet in among the items. You will return that first."

Reina blinked and brought a hand to her wrist. A bracelet… A gift on her coronation… from people whose faces she felt she should know, yet could not place. She shook her head and looked back to Nova who waited.

"Oh right away!" the merchant exclaimed with false enthusiasm. "Just after you tell me how many of your little warriors you brought with you." His teeth flashed an unsightly yellow as he grinned. "Because my little birds here?" he pointed to two of his men on the outskirts of the camp, "They tell me you came all by your little self." He squared his shoulders and swaggered forward. "Now, they must not have taught you to count on your island. Otherwise you might notice there are ten of us here." His smug grin widened as he held out his hands in a shrug, sword and all.

"Eight, actually," Nova corrected with a tilt of her head. "Those little birds you mentioned? I poisoned them on my way in. There's an antidote of course, I'm not a monster. I was going to offer it if things went well, but it seems they will not."

"So I'll just kill you and take it off your corpse," he barked.

She tsked with a smirk. "I'm not foolish enough to keep it on me."

"Foolish enough to walk in here," he returned, gesturing to his men.

"Just give it back," Nova hissed, eyes narrowing. "It's not even worth that much to you!"

"Come and take it," he challenged.

Reina shook her head desperately.

"This isn't what I want," she whispered, eyes wide. She rushed forward and grabbed for Nova's arm. Her hands passed right through. "I don't care about some trinket! I can't lose you. Don't you see?"

The men shifted their weapons and circled her.

"You came all this way to die," the merchant jeered, laughing.

"I can easily embrace death," Nova promised, "if it is in service to my queen." Reina reached out as the warrior turned and drew her blade. "She does not need to ask." The words were soft, spoken almost to herself. As Reina watched, she could have sworn Nova's eyes were crimson….

Time rippled as Nova spun away. Forms shimmered, appearing and vanishing in her vision. Reina blinked and Nova's adversaries laid crumbled on the ground. The black armored warrior surveyed their bodies with a grim satisfaction and took a single step. Her foot wobbled before her body tipped sideways for a drawn moment, then she fell hard to the blood-matted ground. Crimson drained slowly from her as she curled. Her hand fumbled at her belt for a slender red bottle. It slipped from her grasp and skidded beyond her reach. She managed a pained growl through gritted, bloodied teeth as she heaved herself toward it, stretching out a hand in a trembling claw. Then, with leviathan effort, she all but fell upon it, pulling free the cork and tipping the contents into her mouth. In the stillness that followed, her arm dropped weakly to the ground, the bottle rolling from her fingers. For an age, nothing happened. Then the crimson pool ebbed in its growth and Nova breathed a wheezing sigh.

Reina shut her eyes against the image.

_"__She does __not need to ask__..."_

She wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head slowly, but Nova and the scene were gone, leaving her alone in the tunnel. Reina ran the back of her hand across her eyes.

"Why show me this?" she asked to the emptiness. There in the gloom, the only answer was her own heartbeat. Her stare lingered on walls for a moment longer before she drew in a deep breath. She had to keep going.

Reina took a step, then let slow strides carry her up the gently sloping path. The river broadened until there was no bank left for her to walk. She trod through the water that was barely deep enough to envelop her feet. A particularly low section in the tunnel forced her to duck before she resumed her course, moving ever upward as the walls shifted from stone to dirt.

The path leveled out for a moment. She recoiled and winced as a new, bright light filled the space. She blinked quickly to clear her vision, finding a shimmering specter before her. Reina squinted hard, then adamantly wished she hadn't.

It looked like the Well's phantom, but dark, nearly lost in the gloaming tunnel. Shadow shimmered like flames along its body as it paced towards her. Reina stepped back.

"What _are_ you?" she demanded.

It regarded her with eyes that glowed a gentle green. They were lovely, and yet….

"There's no need to be afraid," it hummed. "I'd no sooner harm you than myself."

"That's not an answer," Reina retorted, watching it warily.

It cocked its head.

"I understand," it sighed, hurt lacing its words as it pawed the ground with a foot. "I can be frightening. If others knew of me, they'd cast me out. That's why I'm hiding."

Reina didn't answer. The shadow looked up to her, gleaming eyes wrinkled in shame. It waited for a heartbeat, then pushed aside its pity.

"But I'm not important, little one. I'd much rather know about you. Tell me, sweet child, why did you come here?" It gestured around them with an incorporeal hand.

"What do you mean?" she had to ask.

Its features drew into a pitying wince, head lowering.

"You're not meant to be here," the shadow whispered, drawing close. "And both of us know it." A spectral hand lifted to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "Even as you walk this path, you doubt yourself. You can deceive _them_ certainly. A few sweet words and reassurances can do wonders. But you cannot fool _me_. Never _me_."

It settled its hand on her cheek, green eyes gleaming, nearly… swaying. She was… tired.

Reina drew back and it smiled.

"Oh child," came the knowing sigh. "We both know you never wanted this. Come now, there's no shame in turning back. You could return to your life with your father, become a healer like you wanted." The shadow smiled. Or… was it a smirk?

Reina shook her head quickly. "No," she managed, finding her voice.

"No?" it echoed, drawing out the word as it brought up a finger to tap its chin. "Surely your not just content to throw it all away. Your training, your dreams..."

The eyes held her. They sparkled beneath their surface, the subtle dance so like the water's reflection on the walls. The sway eased the tension from her body, lulling her almost into sleep. She blinked and had to shake her head again before answering.

"I'm not abandoning it," came her refute.

"Oh?" This time the figure definitely smirked.

Reina hesitated, lowering her eyes as she struggled with her words.

"It's certainly not what I'd ever have envisioned, but… I haven't abandoned anything." She lifted her stare and repeated, "I haven't abandoned anything. I've just grown to want more, to want something else. I had different dreams as a child. I wanted to be a bard and travel the world, fighting monsters along the way, but as I grew, what I wanted changed. It's no different here."

"Perhaps," the shadow grudgingly conceded in a breathy hiss. "But royalty? Ruling a kingdom? You are not prepared for that."

Now _that_ she had an answer to.

"I don't have to be," she smiled, shaking her head. "With this place the way it is? They don't actually need a monarch to rule. The steward is really the important one. The heads of houses know how to govern their trades, and the steward knows how to govern them in turn. I'd just be another seat at the table. That or a magical tuning fork..." She paused to huff a meager laugh at her own joke before continuing. "I have Gabriel to help me. And not only him, but Dad and Nova, even Aveth. They'll all help guide me," she nodded, lifting a hand to her chest.

"Really?" it grimaced, contorting its inky features into contempt as it raised an eyebrow. "Now there's a ringing endorsement. A queen who can't lead her own people without everyone else helping her. Or doing it for her. Can you imagine a seamstress who can't sew? A mage who can't cast spells?"

Reina tried to reply, but found no words as the phantom sighed and settled a sad stare on her. The weight of it staggered her, driving out her thoughts.

"Child," the honeyed word slithered, as the figure shook its head. "It's time to open up your eyes. You can't even stand on your own two feet! Without them, you're nothing. What if they decide to abandon you? That you were never worth the effort in the first place?" It prowled even closer to her with methodical steps, settling its hands on her face. "I'm the only one you can trust. The only one that will never leave you: your own shadow…." it cooed, moving a hand to settle on its chest, "I know what you're capable of, sweet child. It pains me, but I must be truthful. You will not succeed. And then an entire people will suffer for it. Save yourself the agony. Spare them the pain. _Go back_."

The last words echoed in whispers around the space. They mingled with the scintillating eyes and sent another wash of weariness through her. She fought it only to look up and find herself staring back the way she had come.

"No one could blame you," it whispered beside her, the breath cold on her ear. "They asked too much. It was cruel of them, they know that now. Go now and tell them."

Reina's stare wavered. She would… cause them pain?

"That's it. You understand now," the figure purred, its hands settling on her arms. "All you have to do is tell them. They'll understand. In fact, they'll thank you for it in the end."

Reina took a staggering step. They would understand. They would-

"No."

The word whispered out in the small space. It took her an age before she realized it had come from her own mouth. She turned back, looking into the green eyes as she repeated the word. It fueled a spark within her that battled the weariness in her body. "I'm going to see this through," she promised. "I'm not going to walk away just because it's hard or because someone like you says I can't. I'm stronger than you think. Now step aside. I've wasted enough time bandying words with a _shadow_."

It shrank back, baring phantasmal teeth.

"You won't succeed," it scoffed, slinking back into the shadows.

"Then you'll just have to watch me," she challenged with a smirk.

It vanished with a snarl of rage.

Reina staggered back against the wall in its wake, feeling a relief that stole the strength from her bones. She slumped, wondering if she could simply curl up against the wall for the smallest of naps.

"Come child," a voice bid. It was masculine and warm, unfamiliar and yet… "You're almost there."

She hesitated in the wake of the shadow, but curiosity got the better of her, pushing her up the rest of the sloping path as she finally reached its peak.

Reina gasped. Before her stretched a vast chasm both in height and girth. Dominating the center of it was a massive, crystalline tree that welled with a cool radiance. Great branches forked and reached for a point high above, their light blue surface heavy with delicate leaves. Her eyes traveled up to a pinprick of light above. Some part of her mind knew where she stood. Or rather… what she stood beneath: the Senge Stones, from which rain water flowed into this space. The errant knowledge drifted away before she could wonder about it.

She turned her gaze back down to find the tree's sprawling roots splayed like a spiderweb across the ground within an equally vast pool of water that covered the entire space. It bore the Well's coloration, but in a paler hue.

She felt a pulse of magic beside her and turned. The feminine phantom from the Well dipped its head in acknowledgment and looked to the tree.

"That is Aedrasiil, the Tree of All. Remove your shoes, dear child, and approach. You will find no further trials here." With that, it vanished.

She did as instructed, stepping into the pool that rose to her ankles. The water was warm and welcoming. Her amulet began to glow with a soft light as she approached. The tree's surface shimmered in response and rippled as another spectral being stepped from it. Reina stopped mid-stride.

His form flowed between several iterations: an elder with spiderwebs of hair draping down his back, a man barely into adulthood, and then it finally settled on a fully realized adult somewhere in between them. His stance was strong, long hair tied into a loose braid with a circlet adorning his brow as his warm eyes smiled.

"Well done," he praised, lifting a hand and beckoning her closer. "Truly I could not be prouder to have you as a successor."

Reina hesitated, eyeing the phantom warily even though she was getting alarmingly used to the apparitions.

He paused a moment, his proud smile bleeding into a frown.

"Of course you would not know me," he scoffed at himself, shaking his head. The phantom paused, then stepped forward to meet her. "You have proven your worth and your willingness to shoulder the burden of leadership. For that, we would recognize you. It is time to awaken fully unto yourself, Lucinda."

He lifted a hand and touched the center of her forehead with his thumb. Light flooded the space and Reina shut her eyes tightly. Deep within her, came a thrumming pulse. It was warm and bright, suffusing her like sunlight from within. The strength of magic that resonated from it stole her breath. Beside it something shifted, revealing itself like a fog rolling in from the sea. Slowly, she began to understand where she was, who _he_ was. She opened her eyes.

"Elisideen," she breathed. "How could I have forgotten?"

The former king, her predecessor, her mentor. She stared at him as he settled a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You will remember it all slowly, over time. Lest we risk your sanity."

She nodded, accepting the wisdom in his words as if it were second nature.

Elisideen removed his hand as it glowed with magic and waved it before her throat, then toward the tree. A small leaf appeared on one of the branches. She felt for the amulet out of reflex, not actually expecting to find it. Nothing met her searching fingers and she lowered her hand.

"You've come far in such a short time," he smiled.

"I'm not so sure that's true," she remarked.

A disbelieving chuckle answered her. Elisideen's face held the smile for a moment, then faded into a solemn frown. He lifted a hand to brush her cheek with the tips of his fingers and sighed.

"I am sorry," he offered softly. "I could not hold on to you. If I had..."

Reina was already shaking her head.

"If you had, then I wouldn't have my dad right now," she said, as if the matter were final. "I don't regret the life I've led." A smirk twisted her lips. "Besides, I knew Nova would find me."

Elisideen scoffed with a wry smile.

"We helped."

She simply held her smirk in place and he relented with another chuckle.

The tree's leaves swayed without wind a heartbeat before his face contorted in a grimace. He grasped a spectral hand to his chest and hunched with a groan. A dark, shimmering pulse washed over his form and the tree alike, crawling along the branches like a host of spiders just under the surface.

"Elisideen!" Reina gasped, reaching out to clasp his arms. His form rippled, losing its clarity as he staggered against her, surprisingly solid. Something dark dragged claws across her from within, sending pain flaring through her muscles. Reina gasped, but ignored it, focusing on him instead. "What can I do?"

He shook his head, and thus they remained, still and silent until the darkness receded, battered away by the soft light welling from the tree's form. Elisideen stood slowly, his image sharpening back into its former clarity.

"What happened," Reina demanded in a low whisper, loosing a breath of relief.

His worn eyes stared at her for a moment before he finally gestured with an open hand toward the tree's trunk where there was a small hollow.

"Aedrasiil's heart now lies within the Devourer's belly, subjected to the loathsome taint and rot seeping from the abomination. It works to corrupt us simply for its own amusement," he hissed like a curse.

Reina stared at the crisp outline in the trunk. The gem they had ferried to the Senge would fit perfectly in that space… Yet the garm had stolen it away.

"What can I do?" she asked again, an iron resolution smoldering in her eyes.

"No!" Elisideen refuted, his hand cutting through the air. "You are barely wakened to your power." Yet he hesitated and looked back to the tree with a glare. "I will not!" he hissed pointedly. There was a simmering pause before Elisideen loosed a bitter sigh. "I would tell you to send the guard on this task alone, but…"

"I'm not about to ask them to do something I'm not willing to do. I'm going with them."

Elisideen sighed again.

"It is your best and sometimes worst trait," he groused.

"Debatable," she quipped with a smirk.

His lips formed a thin line as he looked away briefly. "The Devourer is no simple opponent."

That brought a frown to her.

"He cannot be killed," she murmured, and truly she _had_ tried. Elisideen's nod spurred her on, "So how do I defeat him?"

"Shatter his body enough and it will cast him back unto the Void. Or wherever it is his wretched hide slinks out from."

"Simple enough," she tried, forcing a smirk that failed.

Elisideen's face fell. "I cannot dissuade you? Not even to step back and let your warriors take care of this?"

Reina simply shook her head with a smile. "But I can promise you that I'll be careful."

Elisideen's eyes narrowed in a skeptical stare that sent a familiar shiver of apprehension down her spine. She half expected a lecture for some reason… or the reproachful tap of a book atop her head. But Elisideen simply smoothed his expression and turned back toward the tree.

"Then so be it," he relented. "I'm afraid your coronation must wait. It's more ceremonial, anyway."

_Coronation. _ Reina gulped. The word conjured a host of butterflies to her chest. Elisideen simply continued as if he hadn't noticed.

"Without Aedrasiil's heart, we cannot bond you fully to our magics. You possess a spark beside the burning sun. So for the moment, take this. Let it be a symbol of your station and our blessing." He reached toward the tree and the shimmering bark bulged before forming into a hilt. Reina blinked at it, but he was not finished. He grasped the handle and pulled, a single sided, alabaster blade coming free. He turned it, offering her the blue-green hilt with its circular guard. Reina hesitated, then took hold of it reverently, lifting it to her wide eyes in awe. She looked back Elisideen. His wide smile was serene on his strong face. With the wave of his hand, a sheathe appeared on her hip, making her jump with a small squeak of surprise. His rich laughter echoed through the space.

Reina ran her fingers tenderly down her blade, her eyes lingering on it for a moment before she finally slid it home.

"I will return with Aedrasiil's heart," she promised.

Elisideen touched her cheek.

"Do not let it cost you yours," he cautioned. "Now go child. They await you."

Reina nodded once and turned away, starting down the tunnel once more. She cast a glance over her shoulder one last time at Elisideen's encouraging smile before leaving him and the radiant tree behind.

* * *

Reina stepped into the room where the others waited. Nova and George both opened their mouths at once, but it was the ethereal phantom still lingering beside them that spoke first.

"Well done, dear child." It paused, biting its lip with a private smile. "And welcome back."

"What happened? Are you alright?" Nova and George asked in unison. They blinked and looked to each other, Nova offering a hapless shrug. George huffed a scoff with a small smirk.

"I'm fine," Reina assured, keeping the "_mostly"_ to herself.

"What you experienced was for you alone," the phantom asserted calmly. "All we need to know is that you succeeded."

Reina opened her mouth and lowered a hand to touch the scabbard at her side, then drew her blade and offered it for inspection. The specter chuckled softly, its myriad voices sounding like a chorus.

"You do not need to prove it to _me_, Lucinda."

Nova swallowed hard at the name, feeling her heart squeezed. At last. At long last. Sweet Ancestors….

Gabriel's eyes widened. "That cannot be."

"What do you mean?" George asked, looking askance.

"Her sword bears an uncanny resemblance to Geledriel's blade," he breathed reverently.

"Our first king," Nova supplied, matching his tone.

The phantom gave another, knowing laugh. "Yes, and the first to undergo such trials, but not the last."

"Does… this mean..." Gabriel managed.

"Behold Lucinda, reborn as Reina, anointed as the heir to the Aelyrian throne," the specter proclaimed.

Reina's eyes flicked around the room as Gabriel and Nova bowed deeply while the phantom offered the dip of its head. George simply offered a wave with waggling fingers and mouthed "_proud of you_". She pursed her lips and shifted from foot to foot.

"Please rise," she entreated.

They obeyed. Nova bit her lip and warred with her words before finally speaking in a barely audible voice. There was pleading, hope, and fear all coiled into three small words.

"Do you… remember?" It was all she could manage.

Reina met her gaze with an apologetic look.

"He said it will… return in time," she replied.

Nova's face betrayed nothing as she nodded once.

Reina gripped the sword's hilt harder with a frown. Elisideen's task returned to the fore of her mind, stoking a solemn sense of duty that burned brighter as she breathed. She lowered her eyes, then shook her head and met their stares, sheathing her blade. "The Devourer… he has swallowed the heart-"

"The _gem_," corrected the specter forcefully.

"The gem," Reina amended, wincing as she realized that such knowledge was likely meant for Aelyria's monarchs and none other.

"You don't mean-" Gabriel recoiled, eyes wide.

Reina nodded solemnly. "The gem of the Senge sits in its stomach, festering with every sunrise that passes. It's polluting the..." She broke off and cast a searching glance at the phantom.

"The Well," it finished. "And with it, us. In time it will erode the connection that links us to this world, to our people, to you." Its scintillating eyes turned back to Reina. "And we will wither."

"We can't allow it," Reina proclaimed, squaring her shoulders.

"No," Gabriel agreed with narrowed eyes and uncharacteristic vehemence. "No we cannot."

"Say the word and I'll cut its head from its body," Nova promised with a dire smile, one hand gripping her sword's sheath.

Reina tried to smile at her, but it faltered as the image of the warrior bleeding out on the ground returned to her mind.

_ "__I can easily embrace death if it is in service to my queen. She does not need to ask."_

"So will your walls be safe now?" George asked, interrupting Reina's thoughts as he folded his arms.

The phantom shook its head.

"Until the gem is returned, she cannot become the true focus for our magic. Thus, we have no choice but to endure."

George huffed as if no answer would have pleased him.

"Did you think we would simply wave our hands and _poof_?" the phantom scoffed with all of its voices in scorn.

"Of course not," Gabriel assured.

"Kind of," Nova admitted. She received a glare from both the specter and the steward in turn. The warrior lifted her hands in a querying gesture.

The Aelyrians continued, striking up a debate as Reina blinked heavily. She didn't follow a word. Her body swayed, tilting slightly before she ever realized she was falling. A solid form caught her and wrapped a careful arm around her waist. Reina didn't need to look to know it was Nova. The feel of the warrior's embrace; the slight scent of metal, pine, and what had to simply be Nova. Mixed with the steady comfort, it was more than enough. She surrendered to it gratefully.

Nova met George's threatening glare and stared back with a defiant challenge of her own. It only made his eyes narrow further.

"She needs to rest," Nova announced, interrupting Gabriel in his babbling to the phantom. She'd lost the tread of the topic and didn't care to find it. Instead, she scooped up Reina into her arms and carried her back into the hall. George moved to intercept.

"It's alright," she soothed in a strangely calm voice. "I won't drop her." It wasn't what either of them were worried about and each of them knew it. But he pursed his lips and gave a single, grudging nod.

"You keep your hands were I can see them," he threatened.

Nova flushed scarlet.

"That- that is _not…_ I wasn't even-" She snapped her mouth shut on her own sputtering and pushed past him.

Only when her back was turned did George allow himself to smirk.

For her part, Reina adamantly pretended she was asleep.

* * *

The Devourer writhed, shaking his head as his ears plastered themselves against his skull. The song. The song was twice its strength with a full, garish melody threading through it, soft and airy in places, yet through it all, a deep, resonating strength.

It was _vile_.

So the worthless little queen had woken up. He scoffed at the thought. It just meant she'd cowered before those loathsome bright beings and prostrated her belly.

He snapped with gnashing fangs at the nearest garm, who dropped to the ground at once and cowered in the shadow of the trees. It did nothing to soothe his rage.

His pack crouched, ears flattened back with their tails tucked firmly as they whined and crept away. Half of them still looked like drowned skeevers, riddled with bite marks from where he'd none-too-gently plucked them from the river. Many more had drowned…. Irritation seeped from him in a growl of warning. Yet some small part of him took solace in their presence. It almost made him glad that he'd spent so much time saving them all. Almost. It had cost him his prey, but…. There were far too many of those little mortals scampering across his island. If he was to rid himself of them, he would need these sniveling whelps. Still, he snapped his jaws and barked until they scrambled further back into the trees. With a rumbling sigh, he lifted his gaze once again.

Before him the wall of the city rose to an imposing height, charred black in places and strewn with rubble as a trio of consecutive spires had been shattered at their tips in the storm.

Despite his failure the night before, he licked his lips, feeling some small amount of pleasure. These creatures never thought ahead. He, on the other paw, always planned several steps beyond the present.

Of course it would have been far more convenient to kill the little queen in the storm, but the hunt so often went astray. He huffed a long breath through his nostrils that shimmered in the air. It did not matter. Not now. He looked back up to the charred spires and his lips curled in feral smirk. Roiling in his belly were the stones meant to be at their peaks. They seared and rattled as he heaved, neck bulging as he purged three from his stomach. Though weaker than the great gem still in him, they were still not fully corrupted, not yet. Such a thing would take more time than he cared to wait. But this would be enough to dampen their power….

He lifted his proud head with his tail held high. So clever a being was he!

Now the brightlings would find them, and like the predictable creatures they were, they would put them back on their pitiful wall to cower behind.

He barked and a scrawny garm darted forward, snapping up one of the trinkets and running it past the tree line. An arrow found it quickly, turning it to mist as its glittering prize rolled free.

The Devourer's leering smile grew and suddenly, he was so very glad he'd pulled these little pups from the water.

A/N: I feel like I just need to stand up with a "Hi, I'm Azurite Storm and I have a problem. Any time I can have my characters be tempted by a shadow, I will. It has been zero stories since my last incident." But it's fun... :D I regret nothing.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Interlude

Reina cracked open a devious eyelid. She was not, absolutely not, enjoying being carried by Nova. Really. The palace halls were quiet and strangely empty, though the later was a relief. Reina wasn't sure her pride would remain dormant if anyone saw her being carried like a… like a…. Well the word she wanted was _princess_, but that was a bit too close to the mark.

"Do you plan to pretend you're asleep the entire time?" Nova asked with an audible smirk.

Reina peered up at her and offered her best cheshire smile.

"And if I did?"

"Then I'd tell you that those stairs back there were a pain in the backside. And thighs. And no offense, but you're not exactly light."

Reina lifted her arms and draped them casually around Nova's neck as she lifted her lips to the woman's ear. The warrior fought a delicate shiver as the breath washed over her skin.

"Nova," she whispered. "Did you just imply that I'm fat?"

Nova chuckled from deep in her chest.

"Spirits no, I'm afraid you'd blow away on the wind," she refuted.

"So I'm too scrawny," Reina accused, grin only widening.

"Um. No?" Nova tried, face scrunching as she blinked. She opened her mouth, then closed it. "Look, I think you just need to tell me whatever I need to say to fix this."

Reina giggled merrily and buried her face in the crook of the warrior's neck.

"Carry me minion," she teased.

"I already am!" Nova protested, trying to shrug but quite literally having her hands full. "And minion? Really? How does being dropped on a staircase sound?"

Reina lifted wide and remarkably wounded eyes to the warrior.

"But you wouldn't..." The honeyed words flowed from her like a child watching their parent lift their favorite toy to the fire.

"Alright, that's it. You are _walking_," Nova declared with the roll of her eyes. True to her word, she settled Reina's feet to the ground.

"You're no fun," Reina chuckled, releasing her hold on the warrior and falling in behind her as she turned a corner. The statues of the winged and horned horses greeted her.

Nova nodded to the guards posted outside the queen's chambers and pushed open the door, gesturing for her to enter.

Reina stopped short.

"Trust me," Nova implored softly.

Reina gave a nod and hurried inside only to back quickly against the wall near the door as Nova entered and shut it behind them.

"Are you sure it's alright for us to be in here?"

Nova pointed a single finger to the pristine blade at Reina's side. "Really?"

"Alright…. Fair point," Reina acknowledged, abashed. She lifted her eyes as her breath caught. The large room bore a rich, black rugs across the entire floor that almost begged her to kick off her boots and bury her toes in it. She resisted for the moment, instead walking slowly to a desk in the near corner and trailing her fingers across its comfortably worn surface. A thoughtful frown creased her face. She'd had another one in room lined with books for more regal business. This… this one had been for letters of a more personal nature. To her family? She found herself nodding before she drifted to a bookshelf with carved ivy crawling up its frame. The titles weren't familiar, but they sounded interesting. Next came the nightstand, remarkably plain for a queen's room. The canopied bed more than made up for it. Rich blue curtains draped around it, complemented by a delicate, sky-hued comforter. It looked far too inviting, leaving her fighting the urge to curl atop it.

She turned in a circle, noting a wardrobe and washbasin, yet…

"It's all so clean..." she mused.

"Of course," Nova smirked, a hand on her hip. "We're not about to let it gather dust and spiders." She motioned to Reina, then strode to a door in the far wall and pulled the heavy portal open. Reina stared at the image of the Guardian carved into its surface. The soft eyes of the regal horse were closed, almost as if it was in the midst of a gentle nod of assurance. She couldn't help but smile at the sight.

They moved into a short hall, passing by an open door. Reina glimpsed an array of bookshelves along the walls and a massive desk before she hurried to catch up with Nova. At least she knew where her other desk was now. She paused. _Her_ desk…. _Her_ things…. Strange and familiar all at once.

The hall split into an intersection, one end stopping at a wall with an arched window that let sunlight spill over a small window seat. The other end bore a door emblazoned with the striking form of the Watcher, dragon-like winds raised. Yet Nova stopped midway between them at a simple wooden door. She opened It, then stepped back hesitantly. Reina looked on into what could only be a small classroom.

"Sorry," Nova offered, running a hand through her hair. "I just thought you might like to see some of the places you used to… spend time in. But maybe it was stupid." She grimaced and looked away.

"No, it's nice," Reina assured, then stepped into the room to further her point.

A grand slate was mounted to one wall, slightly green in hue and almost perfectly smooth. Before it sat a handful of small desks with comfortable chairs. Dents and scuffles marred the furniture subtly, lending the weight of ages to it.

She drifted toward the desk slowly, yet it was not the furnishings that drew her; it was the _scent_ of the room…. Books and papers; wood polish; thick rugs; chalk and underneath it all, something she couldn't quite identify. So very familiar, so hard to forget.

She sat in a cushioned chair, half expecting one of her instructors to march in and scold her for daydreaming. Or more likely, her posture…. They'd been remarkably indifferent about her title. Actually… she hadn't been the queen yet. She had been the… queen-to-be? Was that the title? Regardless, it was much like she was now.

"Nova?"

"Yes?" the warrior called as she closed the door and leaned casually against the wall, arms folded.

"You said the Ancestors choose a worthy ruler at the Senge. But if there can only be one… 'blessed' at a time then how was… why was I trained? I wasn't the queen."

Nova smiled.

"More often than not the Ancestors will choose a successor before the current monarch's passing, or at said ruler's request, if the weight of their responsibility begins to pull too heavily on them. That way the 'monarch-in-waiting', so to speak, has ample time to be trained by the stewards, and the ruler themself," she explained. "You were one of the youngest to ever be chosen, but Elisideen was nearing the end of his life and feared leaving Aelyria without a proper ruler."

A face came with the name. It was worn and slightly wrinkled, but his crisp blue eyes still sparkled. The spindly gray hair that hung down past the small of his back splayed like gossamer spiderwebs as he sat the throne. Each move he made was carefully calculated, as if he could not afford the energy to raise his hand for just anything. Yet he'd always had time for her in the evenings, whether to help her in her studies or simply play a game. The image in her mind swayed beside the ghostly visage standing before Aedrasiil.

She nodded slowly, but bit her lip.

"What is is?" Nova asked softly.

"I remember him… I remember you… But I can't remember anyone else. Not the people, and not Lucinda's… my… former parents," she managed. She couldn't call them her parents. That place was reserved for _her_ mother, _her_ father. No one would take their place nor stand beside them in that title.

Nova hesitated for a moment, then nodded once in understanding. Trentus had been much like a father to her, and for far longer than her own had had that chance. Yet she would never be able to call him that. There was a space for that title. It was reserved. No one else could stand in it.

"Your… former mother was a seamstress, one of the best. She apprenticed a very young Laurel, in fact. You met her the other day in town. As for father, he was a simple fisherman with a deep, abiding love for the sea that was only overshadowed by his love for you and your- Lucinda's mother."

_Was_?

"Then they're..."

"They walk the Far Shore among the Ancestors now," Nova said solemnly. "They passed but a few decades into your reign."

She felt relieved, and then like a monster for feeling such a vile thing.

Nova gave an inaudible sigh and strode to her, unable to stop herself as she lifted a hand and trailed the backs of her fingers along Reina's freckled cheek.

"I think they'd understand," the warrior offered.

Reina leaned into the touch.

"I'm sorry," Nova murmured. "I'm sure this all must be… overwhelming. Or at least taxing."

Reina pursed her lips thoughtfully. "You know… it should be, but it… it doesn't feel that odd. It… doesn't feel like I'm a different person. More like an old memory that you don't recall until something suddenly reminds you, and then you're standing there wondering how you ever forgot it.

She stood slowly and lifted her fingers to brush stray strands of hair from Nova's face. The warrior swallowed hard and looked away, letting her own hand drop.

"Why do you shy from my touch?" Reina asked, astonished at her own boldness.

Nova stiffened and took an involuntary step back.

"It's just that I..." Reina sighed, then pushed ahead. Better to finish what she'd started than leave it uncertain forever. "I feel like… every other time I reach for you, you pull away. Now, and when we took shelter from the storm in the mill. But last night when I kissed you, you returned it and… Gods, was it really only last night?" she shook her head and continued. "But if you tell me you don't feel the same, I can respect that. I can... accept that," she reinforced firmly. "I'm not made of glass. I just… I need to know."

Nova shut her eyes tightly. Her throat was tight, far too tight. Spirits it threatened to choke her. She tried to think of a lie, an excuse, a reason… yet her mind was frustratingly blank of anything useful. She shook her head, silently begging the Ancestors.

A soft hand settled on hers.

"Nova, please," Reina implored. Her voice borrowed strength from her conviction, but she could not keep the quavering from it. "It's… alright if you don't... care for me."

The words broke something deep inside the warrior's heart. Did it hurt Reina so much? The weight of such a secret… if the only thing carrying it did was hurt the one she loved most… why did she hold so tightly to it? She shook her head despairingly, the words slipping from her centuries-long grasp.

"I have always loved you," Nova whispered, the proclamation barely carrying as she forced it from her throat. It cut like shards of glass. But it was free now. She turned to Reina fully, and before she lost her nerve, she repeated it. "I have always loved you." She lifted her hands and cupped Reina's face. "Be it then or now, this form or another, I love you." She looked away and shut her eyes. "But if you can't stand the thought… of a half-breed like me… I'll bury it. We can just… continue on, and never have to speak of it again. I can't forsake it, I can't just ignore it, but I can bury it. Just please…. Please don't hate me, and don't send me from your side."

Reina blinked in stunned silence. Had Nova not heard a single word she'd said? Then, all at once, so many things made sense. So very many. But still… She hooked a finger under the warrior's chin and drew her face back.

"Gods, why would I ever do that?" she protested. "How could I ever-"

"You are my queen," Nova asserted hollowly. "You were always well beyond my reach."

Reina stared for a long moment before speaking.

Nova shuddered in the damning silence. She had gone to far. Spirits, why. What in the Far Shore had prompted her to speak? She should have-

"And you were my vassal," Reina answered with a mirthless laugh. "If I'd wanted you, I could have had you, whether or not you desired it."

Nova simply blinked as she continued.

"How could I possibly have voiced my desires without forcing your consent?" Reina continued. "You wouldn't have been able to refuse me. And I couldn't have… I couldn't have lived with myself if I had."

"But..." Nova managed to stammer. "I'm a half-breed..."

Reina lifted both her hands to the warrior's armored shoulders and shoved her back against the wall.

"The next time you say something like that, I'm going to march you in front of the entire guard and make you say something nice about yourself," she threatened.

"You wouldn't manage it," Nova refuted, hiding behind a shaky laugh.

Reina lifted a brow in a fashion far too similar to Lucinda for Nova's staggering mind to process. It robbed the warrior of any retort as Reina issued one of her own.

"You'll now be wearing a dress."

"The Far Shore will freeze first," she murmured.

With the roll of her eyes, Reina wrapped her arms around the woman's shoulders and pressed a soft kiss against the her lips.

Nova's chest seized once more, barely affording her breath. For a moment, she stood rigid, then slowly reached out a trembling hand and wrapped it around Reina's waist, drawing her closer as her other hand buried itself in the woman's pale, golden hair. Yet she pulled back.

"This is… this _is_ real, isn't it?" Nova asked, brow furrowed. She had to be sure. Spirits…

"It is," Reina assured with a trembling laugh. Gods, she finally… she could finally have this? It was almost more than she could bear. Still, she pulled at Nova gently, bringing her back.

Nova obliged quickly, before she could begin to doubt. She kissed her hard with demanding insistence. Spirits, this was… more than she could have ever dreamed. Her eyes misted just before two traitorous tears snuck down her cheeks. She ignored them, and prayed Reina would too.

She didn't.

Reina lifted a hand to brush away the salty tracks and broke the kiss just long enough to speak.

"Come, my love."

Nova managed a smile and lifted her effortlessly, carrying her back toward the queen's bed as she trailed her tongue up Reina's neck to a delightful moan.

* * *

Gabriel moved through the city at a brusque pace with George in tow.

"I want to thank you for coming along," he offered kindly. "It's a relief to have another person to help recount such an important event."

"Not sure why you need another person, you're just talking to your own guards," George muttered.

"Because your perspective is invaluable," Gabriel replied at once, never missing a step.

"Nova would probably be more help," the man offered, narrowed eyes staring askance at the steward.

"She seems to have vanished."

"Along with my daughter," George growled.

"I wouldn't worry," Gabriel chuckled. "Knowing Nova, she's probably already haranguing the blacksmith for last minute adjustments to her armor or sword. She's never been one to miss out on a battle."

George huffed.

"Maybe," he offered grudgingly.

Gabriel kept his face passive as he allowed himself a mental smirk. Nova was going to owe him one after this. Not that he read anything into, well, _anything_ that was going on…. No, not at all. He was just a simple steward.

He rounded the corner and came to a large building with an ornate door. All other thoughts drained from him as he pushed it open. It was time to ready for war.

* * *

Trentus took in a hard breath and worked to strap on his last piece of armor. The rebellious bracer fought his efforts as he gritted his teeth and grimaced at it. One the third attempt, he finally secured it in a mixture of pride and disheartened acceptance. Trentus listened intently as the steward continued his tale, but could not help studying the burns that coated his arms. His hand traveled down his new chest plate as if he could still feel the gouging claws rending the metal apart to dig tracks in his chest and abdomen. The beast's slavering mouth had snapped and raged above him, raining down burning droplets. It was a miracle his face had been spared. He hardly remembered getting free of the monstrosity, only the faintest sense of someone dragging him by his arm.

But the gem was what mattered now.

For his part, Gabriel respectfully pretended not to notice the difficulty in the man's movements and gestured to George to verify details.

In the end, Trentus motioned, and they followed him out of the healer's ward. He ignored the silently stewing healers' simultaneous displeasure and hobbled quickly through the streets before crossing the palace courtyard and striding down the halls. Pushing aside the door to the barracks, he nodded as a young, elven man stood fluidly and clasped a fist over his chest, brown hair gleaming in the firelight as he nodded.

"Sir!"

"Aethis, would you bring me the duty roster?" It was far more command than request, but the youth bowed and whirled away.

Trentus limped to a large table festooned with a map of the island and leaned his palms down on it.

Aethis reappeared from the next room with a rolled parchment in hand. He passed it to Trentus and stepped back, eyes watchful.

Trentus laid out the parchment and studied it, drumming his fingers as he thought. A quill and ink entered his vision as Aethis settled it on the table and stepped back again with the faintest of knowing smirks.

Trentus offered a nod in gratitude. It was refreshing to have someone who knew what was needed and simply did it. He dipped the quill and scratched out a series of amendments, then, just as easily, he handed the page back to Aethis.

"Get the scouts out there first. I want every dip and crevasse of this island searched until the Devourer is found. When that's done, inform them all: we march at first light."

"Understood," Aethis nodded, pressing a fist to his chest and accepting the parchment before striding from the barracks.

"First light?" Gabriel echoed, failing to keep the displeasure from his voice.

"Even if I knew where that horror was hiding, it would take us until early evening to inform everyone and make the necessary adjustments, and likely past sundown to make sure everyone was properly outfitted for such a task. You do remember how fun it is to martial a large force, _High Steward_?" Trentus said with the ghost of a smirk.

"Hm, I forgot where Nova learned sarcasm," Gabriel remarked.

Trentus lifted one shoulder in a half shrug before he winced and returned to leaning against the table. His gruff face paused in a frown as he turned to George. "She was truly given a sword?"

George nodded once with an "aye".

Trentus expelled a long breath through his nose. "Alright then." His soft words followed him as he strode from the barracks.

Gabriel waited for the count of three after the door closed.

"And that's why I needed you," he remarked with a wry smile.

"That?" George huffed, fixing the steward with an incredulous look.

"Our dear commander feels I can be 'dramatic' on occasion," Gabriel smirked with a rueful toss of his head. "Ridiculous, I know."

"Actually..." George pondered, rubbing his chin, "It's making more sense to me now... and I'm less annoyed at being dragged along."

Gabriel paused, mouth open.

"Am I to infer you agree with him?"

"No," George assured, drawing out the word with a budding grin. "I would never do such a thing. Mostly because I don't know what in Oblivion 'infer' means."

Gabriel's emerald eyes slid sideways and regarded him with an arched eyebrow.

"Really?"

George responded with a hearty slap on the back.

"I run an inn," the man asserted. "I can tell you every foul-mouthed swear against everyone and their mother, but if you want any fancy conversation, you ain't getting it with me. So don't go and put a dagger to me for my shortcomings."

The steward didn't miss a step.

"Oh Spirits, no. I have people for that."

George gave a throaty chuckle.

"Might get along with you yet."

* * *

Reina stood in the room lined with bookshelves. She was dressed in only a light robe, taken from the wardrobe. It was hers, after all.

She trailed her fingers along the sturdy spines of the books, pausing at one with a thoughtful frown. The drab brown cover lacked anything spectacular enough to warrant her focus, yet she felt compelled to pull it from the shelf. Its weight staggered her for but a moment before she brought it to the desk and set it down.

Reina settled in the chair and opened to the first page with a satisfying creak from the leather binding. Black ink scrawled across the page with enviable precision. Yet the perfection was marred by another hand that had scribbled in the margins. They were her notes, old long before she had ascended the throne. She continued leafing through and stopped at the caricature of a horse with a wide-eyed expression. It was captioned with "_so hungry I could eat Commander Boring's horse_". Reina barked a laugh only to pale as she caught sight of a spidery scrawl beside it. She relaxed at once as she recognized Elisideen's hand: _"Clearly we need to move your history lesson to after lunch."_

She continued flipping through, scanning a number of notes and similar drawings until she turned to the last page. It had no text, only a single note by Elisideen. _"Remember my dear, the mantle of ruler is a heavy one. Your people will always need you, whether they know it or not, and th__e__y will not always return your efforts with gratitude. But a ruler's first and only duty is to them, sacrificing their own hopes and dreams for their __subjects' __future__s__ in the process. We then live through them, triumphs and failures alike. If the day __of your coronation __comes, and you feel that you cannot bear that responsibility, there is no shame in it. You need only tell me."_

Reina smiled faintly as she shut the book. She stood, speaking not to herself, but to a phantom she wasn't sure could hear.

"I didn't understand it then, not fully. But I do now." She paused, mouth open as she considered, then nodded firmly and repeated it. "I do now."

She returned the book to the shelf, fingers lingering on its spine.

"I know my path. And I'm not about to run from it."

"Reina?"

She turned and spotted Nova in the doorway dressed hastily in her light breeches and shirt.

"My love," Reina greeted.

Nova turned an adorable shade of scarlet. At length, she managed to snap her gaping mouth shut and stepped into the room.

"I was afraid you'd..." she trailed off, rubbing an arm absently.

Reina crossed the room and took the warrior's hand in her own.

"I'm not about to run off and leave you," she assured softly.

"I know," Nova nodded hastily, running her free hand through her hair. At length, she simply wrapped both arms around Reina's waist and drew her close, settling her cheek against the woman's soft hair. Reina returned the embrace in kind, and for an age, neither of them moved.

"Did I actually fall asleep?" Nova asked indignantly, glad her burning cheeks were hidden from the woman's view.

"No, a light doze," Reina placated diplomatically. "And only for half a heartbeat. I barely had time to peruse the books."

"Sorry," Nova had to offer.

"No need," Reina assured, nestling closer still. "I suppose we should go speak with Trentus now?" Reina suggested, almost hoping Nova would refuse.

"Mh," the warrior nodded with a sigh through her nose. "Gabriel's likely already told him everything. All we have to do is see where we fit in." Yet for all her talk, she only lifted a hand to comb through Reina's tousled hair.

Reina drew back and moved a hand up to the warrior's face, settling her palm on the woman's cheek.

"Come on," she urged in a gentle whisper. "The sooner we begin, the sooner it's done." She placed a placating a kiss on Nova's lips.

Nova sighed and settled into the touch happily.

* * *

Trentus stood atop a balcony high in the castle as the first stars grew visible. A scowl pulled at his lips as he leaned heavily against the railing. He would have preferred to be atop the walls themselves, but this offered him an unprecedented view. From here he could see the walls as they ran toward the sea, the forest beyond the ivory spires, and the city sprawled below. The latter still thrummed with activity as the citizens worked to reverse the damage brought on by the storm.

"I thought I might find you in your 'thinking spot'," a voice chuckled behind him.

The wrinkles in his forehead smoothed as he looked back over his shoulder and acknowledged Nova with the incline of his head. He noted Reina beside her and offered a nod. His posture straightened unconsciously, pushing back from the railing.

Nova stepped up beside him and settled a hand on her hip, surveying the land in kind.

"So, we taking The Children?" she asked. It was a somewhat affectionate term for the last group of trainees sworn in fully as guards. Regardless of their serving for ten years, the current octet would bear the title until a new batch of trainees began their apprenticeship.

Trentus shook his head. "No I need them here with Thraneel's archers. I'm not about to leave the city exposed. These beasts are clever."

"A good plan," Nova agreed. "We'll be more than ready without them. This time we can lure them to a field of our choice, and fight using everyone at once. Not like the caves. The shadow-cursed brutes will fall in droves!"

Trentus paused, considering her for a moment.

"About this 'we'…" he began. "You're not going."

Nova' s mouth went slack. He took full advantage.

"You're the queen's bodyguard. Your place is by her side."

Reina stepped forward, brows furrowed, but he forestalled her coming words with an open hand.

"I'm afraid you're not going either."

"But I-"

"You're safer here," he stated. "The high steward and I are in agreement on this matter."

"You can't be serious!" Reina protested. "Elisideen gave _me_ this task! It's my duty to see it through!"

"No," he refuted calmly, turning to face her directly with an unyielding stare. "It's your duty to survive. If you intend to be queen, that means knowing the proper time to stand and the proper time to give ground. Right now, it means stepping back and letting your guard do their job."

"I won't be some figurehead who cowers back and does nothing!"

He met her still with that inscrutable gaze.

"And I don't intend to make you one. But I also don't need my soldiers worrying that you're going to pull some stunt like you did last night, running off into a pack of garm."

Reina winced.

Trentus took in a breath and settled a calloused hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not trying to make you into some puppet. No disrespect, but Lucinda could fight. She could match us on the battlefield. Until that knowledge returns, or is trained anew, I'm afraid I have to keep you here. You're more valuable than you can possibly realize. You understand?" There was no malice in his words, nor scorn. There was simply what was.

Her hand clenched into a fist.

Trentus sighed, wincing as he lifted a hand to his armored ribs. His calm eyes studied her for a heartbeat, then spoke again, almost like an apology.

"I admire what you're trying to do, but you'll only cost lives if you go with them."

"Trentus!" Nova snapped, stepping forward.

"No," Reina cut in, grimacing. "He's right." She fought to keep her face neutral with the bitter admission on her tongue. "I don't like it…. But I understand," she sighed, closing her eyes with a nod.

"Wait just a mo-" Nova began. Trentus stopped her with only a single, calm look. It was the same one he'd used so many times back when she was young. The very specific look he'd used when she was wrong and he was simply waiting for her to figure it out. Nova blew a heavy sigh through her nose and leveled a steely glare in return.

"If it's any consolation… I'm not going either. And it kills me," he admitted.

Nova's irritation deflated at once, along with Reina's disappointment.

"But..." Nova murmured softly.

"I'll be of no help until I've recovered. They don't need me getting in their way and having to be protected. Aerin can lead them just as well as I can. Sometimes better..." He trailed off with a heavy sigh. "And I'm the one that lost the gem in the first place."

"Hold on-" Nova protested.

He stopped her with a raised hand.

"It was taken from under my care, and despite pursuing the beast, I couldn't retrieve it," he stated, devoid of self-pity. "But blame is a funny thing. It can always be found, or placed, if one looks hard enough, and so, all I can do is step back and do what is best for everyone involved."

"As I must..." Reina said, picking up the clue beneath his words.

He favored her with a smile and single nod. She returned the gesture with a sigh of resignation, hating that he was right.

Trentus turned away, silently dismissing them.

Nova strode for the door as Reina followed.

"Highness?" he called.

Reina kept walking only to belatedly realize he was speaking to her.

"Y-yes?" she stammered.

"It's a remarkable blade you carry. I'd wager there's no finer on this island." He resumed leaning on the railing for support. "Until you are crowned, or… far gone from here, keep it always at your side."

"Of course," she nodded, touching the glossy white scabbard. She made to turn but paused halfway. "And you should know. I'm not going anywhere." She felt more than saw the ghost of a smile as he nodded.

Reina stepped back into the hall and shut the door behind her. She stopped and stared as she met Nova's eyes that welled with pride… or was it joy?

"Come on," Nova urged. "I know a good way to pass the time."

Reina fixed her with a coy look.

Nova blinked before the implications of her own words sank in.

"That is _not_ what I had in mind!" she hissed, voice low.

Reina snickered deviously. Nova's cheeks flushed as she pointedly turned away and couldn't fight a grudging chuckle.

* * *

Aveth sat back in the chair with an impassive expression that just barely managed to hide his smirk.

Gabriel's verdant eyes studied the board settled on his desk between them. Hexagons of various colors made up the mat with a handful of dark wooden pieces atop them. A single pale piece in the shape of a dragon stood to one side.

Gabriel considered it with his chin resting casually on the back of his hand. He remained motionless as he thought, having long ago abandoned the shifts of posture or tap of a restless finger. After all, a proper diplomat had to be aware of all they said, both with word and body.

Footsteps resounded in the corridor before the door to his office swung open. His eyes flicked up to see Nova and Reina enter before he returned his focus to the board.

"Evening," Nova said as Aveth offered a greeting in turn, then looked back to the board.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed for a moment before a smirk wove its way across his lips. He lifted his appraising stare to Aveth.

"Sly fox," he praised, his smirk never wavering as he offered a sigh of defeat.

"You're distracted today," Aveth mused, then flashed a devious grin. "You're not usually this easy to conquer."

"Hmph, true enough," Gabriel conceded.

"Rogue assassin!" Nova yelled, snatching one of the pieces and jumping back.

"Really?" Aveth asked, raising a brow before casting his eyes toward the ceiling with a hopeless smirk.

Gabriel held out his hand for the piece and Nova obliged. Her face turned sour when he simply returned it to its former place.

"Would the two of you like to play as well? he offered.

"Only if you want to lose!" Nova grinned.

"We'll see," Gabriel returned agreeably.

Reina looked on, intrigued, as Aveth produced more painted tiles and laid them out.

"How do you play?" she wondered. "I'll warn you right now though, Dad's won nearly every game we've ever played, so I'm probably terrible."

"We'll teach you as we go," Gabriel assured.

"And don't worry, Nova will be the first one conquered," Aveth said.

"What was that?" the warrior cautioned.

"You can't just crush everything with 'overwhelming force' and call it a strategy," he grimaced.

"I can. And I will," she assured pointedly, pulling a chair closer.

He rolled his eyes again.

"When in doubt, rogue assassin," she deadpanned.

"Well exercising your mind is clearly out," he sighed. "Then at least tell me you've been keeping up with your training."

"Oh look everyone!" she cheered. "My mother's returned from the Far Shore!"

Gabriel looked to Reina and offered a simple shrug.

"You get used to it."

"I heard that," Nova glared. "_And_ I also heard you conspired with Trentus to keep me from going with the guard. I'm crushing you first for that."

"_Conspired_?" he breathed. "Such an accusation. And after I kept George busy all this afternoon."

"Why is that relevant?" Aveth asked, perplexed.

Reina and Nova opened their mouths in a stunned disbelief, exchanging an incredulous glance.

"No reason," Gabriel hastily assured. "Certainly not anything I'll tell you later."

"But… How… Who..." Reina stammered, turning rosy all the while.

"To quote an old sailor, 'A blind man could see it with his cane'," Gabriel offered suavely as he steepled his fingers. "But don't fret, I'm quite good at discretion. Present company notwithstanding."

"Oh I'm crushing you dead now," Nova promised.

"You'll try." A smirk crawled across his face as his voice dropped low for only her to hear. "Little vampire."

Nova's ire vanished as her mouth fell slack.

"You figured it out?" she breathed, a small smile building on her lips.

Gabriel nodded, rubbing his weary eyes.

"I learned more than I ever thought there was to know. It was magnificent, but do you have any idea how difficult it was?" he protested. "Of course one book couldn't have all the answers. There were instead over a dozen scattered through the palace library with bits and pieces, and most of them hearsay."

"You enjoyed the challenge," Nova dismissed with a grin.

"True enough," he admitted, laughing.

"And you don't need to speak so vaguely," she insisted, nodding to the others. "They know."

The high steward stopped, looking around briefly before sighing. "I was too slow, it seems." To his credit, he took the knowledge in stride.

"You could have just asked me," Aveth offered, red eyes gleaming with mirth. Reina and Gabriel looked to him in puzzlement and it was his turn to smile. "I am her progenitor. At least I think that's the proper word for it."

They gaped, blinking.

Reina looked to Nova, curiosity burning in her stare. The warrior nodded once, a silent promise of any answers she wanted.

"You can't really be surprised," Aveth admonished, still with a gentle smile.

"I… have questions…" Gabriel managed, fighting down his surprise until it was contained to a dignified level.

"As we play, if you please," he insisted, gesturing to the board.

Gabriel obliged.

* * *

The stars shone through the palace windows as Reina stepped into her father's room.

"Hey my sweet girl," he greeted, running a wooden comb through his hair. "You heading to bed?"

"Not just yet," she refuted with the shake of her head. "Got a moment?"

"Always," he assured, tossing the comb aside. "What's on your mind?"

He moved to the bed and sat down, patting the quilt beside him. She took the offered seat and looked toward the night sky through the open window.

"I want to stay," she said softly, astonished that the words didn't lodge in her throat.

George was silent for an age, issuing only a weighty sigh.

"Because of Nova?" he finally asked.

"No," she shook her head. "Well… her too, but it's not just that." She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "I feel like this is where I'm supposed to be. It's home. Just as much as the inn."

Another heavy sigh hissed through his nose.

"You really want to be stuck ruling all these people?" he frowned, lifting a graying eyebrow.

"Gabriel will help me learn."

"That's not what I'm asking," he said. "I'm asking if this is really what you want to be doing with your life. If you really think you'll be _happy_ doing it." He paused for a moment, face scrunching like he'd eaten something sour before he finally spat his next words out grudgingly. "Just because you _were_ their queen, doesn't mean you have to be now. You can choose a new life. Gabriel even said as much himself."

She laid a hand over his, leaning against him in silent gratitude. At least he was finally starting to believe.

"I know, Dad. But I can't walk away from this. I won't. This is where I'm meant to be. No... where I _want_ to be."

George stood and paced to the window. He looked back to her, but turned away again, tapping the knuckles of his fist on the windowsill.

"Is that what you want? Or what everyone has told you you should want?" he asked at last.

"It's what I want," she assured calmly. Reina made her way to him and touched his hand.

George wrapped an arm around his daughter and kissed her hair with yet another sigh.

"I'll support you in whatever you decide," he said softly. He didn't particularly like any of this, but maybe he was just a cynical soul. It _was_ a father's job to worry, after all. But his little girl was all grown up. She had to make their own decisions… and he had to let her. Even so, he pulled her closer.

"I love you," she murmured against his chest.

"I love you too, Sweetie."

* * *

The Devourer pressed a paw down on his new toy, digging his claws into the soft flesh of the formerly armored elf for good measure. It was really almost a shame the little creature didn't fight anymore. But then again, he hadn't been much of a challenge anyway. Not for _him_. His claws dug deeper still but there were no more enthralling screams from the delicate lips. Such a pity. Still, he would have to parade this one around for a time. Or at least parts of him. It would make excellent sport while he waited. He was close now… so very close.

With the rise of the sun, these abominations would fall.

A/N: My humans! I would love to hear your thoughts on the story so far! It's been quite a bit of work to put this together and it's rewarding to hear what people think! Thanks to those who already commented! It's very much appreciated!

Nova finally said it! Good girl, you get a cookie.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The End and the Beginning

Gabriel rubbed his eyes and pushed the parchment from him, cursing mathematics, logistics, and whoever invented parchment for good measure. He picked up a fragile cup of long-cold tea and sipped. A knock made him jump. He chastised himself and called for the newcomer to enter.

Reina pushed open the door, framed by the light of a milky crystal behind her. He offered a greeting, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he studied her thoughtfully. Something was different about her….

"Gabriel," she greeted, wielding his name with gentle familiarity. "I'm sorry to disturb you."

"Not at all," he managed, clearing his throat. "I… was just about to come and find you, in fact."

"Oh?" she wondered, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

His answer was slow in coming, his mind occupied by his scrutiny. What was it? Something subtle… and yet… all too powerful.

Another puzzle to be solved….

"Gabriel?"

The steward winced, belatedly realizing she'd been speaking to him.

"My apologies," he offered dipping his head in a bow. "You were saying?"

She glanced away from him out into the misty expanse beyond the window.

"You want to know if I intend to stay. If I intend to take up the mantle of queen," she surmised concisely. "And… whether or not a coronation is required." Her voice faltered on the last sentence, drawing back his wondering gaze.

He watched her take a deep, centering breath as she tucked her hair behind her ears absently. The motion was almost familiar. Indeed, so much of it was. He closed his eyes at the risk of being rude. She had always forgiven him his peculiarities. Just as he had always forgiven hers…

Gabriel recoiled at the errant thought, wondering at it as he held it in his mind's grasp. The task was made somehow easier by his lack of sight. It helped his budding suspicions take root and bloom, reminding him how remarkable the difference was between knowing something was true… and _knowing_ it was true. He opened his eyes and looked to her again as if seeing her for the first time. She regarded him patiently.

"Lucinda..." The whisper slipped unbidden from his lips.

She favored him with a patient smile.

"Reina," she corrected gently, settling into a chair across from him. "Might we begin?"

"Of course," he breathed, and for once, the high steward was at a loss for words.

* * *

Trentus stood in the courtyard, hair sticking to his face from the thick morning fog rolling in off the sea. It turned the city beyond into a hazy, almost ghostly place, muffling sound and chilling his skin. Around him waited guards in nigh uniform black armor. They alternated between standing ready and sitting on the stone paving playing variations on games or simply resting, their long hair equally matted into damp strands. Yet they still managed a regal air, all while moving easily in heavy armor. The boy of his youth would have been jealous. Now he was simply content. He ran a hand through his graying hair with a small smile before shaking a few clinging droplets free.

He shifted, leaning slightly on a staff that went noticed, but pointedly and politely ignored. His newly mended muscles protested with a resonating ache. It only served as a grating testament to the merit in his bitter decision to stay behind. At least the healers had stopped nagging him for leaving before his treatment was complete.

Footsteps broke him from his musings.

Trentus turned to see a youthful woman with unreadable gray eyes and silvery hair that made her look more like part of the mist than a mortal.

"Our scouts have returned?" Trentus surmised.

"Lendritheen is not among them," she said, her voice airy.

Trentus's face creased in a deep frown.

She cast a glance back as if she could see through the very walls.

"Something is wrong in the forest. Neither bird nor beast dare make a sound," she insisted in the same ghostly tone.

"It's just the mist," Trentus soothed. "And Lendritheen likely gotten lost in it, that's all."

Her eyes turned back to him and narrowed.

Trentus sighed through his nose as his frown pulled tighter.

"We'll search for him as we go and-"

"I'm afraid there won't be a need," a voice called.

Trentus's head swiveled to a blond man with a thin face and stately poise.

"Explain," he barked.

"The Devourer has him. Or… rather… what remains of him," the elf winced, lowering his eyes, his skin pale.

"You're certain?" Trentus asked in a low hiss.

"I know Lendritheen, and since the caves, the Devourer haunts my very dreams."

Trentus allowed himself to shut his eyes for but a moment. There would be time to grieve later.

"Where did you see that monster?" he heard himself ask.

"Atop Miralin's Crest," came the response in a breath.

That wasn't terribly far...

He did not wait.

"Form up! We march! The shadow-cursed wretch dies this day!"

Around him came a chorus of cheers.

* * *

The Devourer stood poised atop the hill, tail high. His scathing eyes shifted, staring out across the forest below. Ants marched far from the distant beacon of white wall, their armors as black as his own shaggy coat. A snort huffed from his nose that billowed. With a lazy reluctance, he spat his prize from his maw: the arm of the foolish creature wandering his woods. The flesh sizzled and hissed where his saliva touched it, bubbling as it continued to burn. He held his head aloft in pleasure and trotted away down the slope.

He would leave it as a prize for them to find.

In the shadows of the trees around the high hill, his pack waited with their bellies low to the ground, waiting. He paused at the base of the slope, ears swiveling to and fro as his claws braced. He studied the sounds from the approaching mortals, kneading the dirt beneath him.

She was not with them. Her song welled from further beyond. He huffed another scornful scoff through his nose like a sneeze and growled, dripping more saliva that set the pine needles beneath his feet smoldering. So the whelp cowered in her den like a sniveling pup…. A fittingly pathetic leader for an equally pathetic pack. He barked once, and the shadows came alive, darting to his side. Lupine eyes watched him with rapt attention. Yet he did not miss the strays that skulked away, tucked low.

His calculating gaze studied their path and felt more than saw the little queen's soldiers in their march. They sought revenge? Or perhaps it was simple hatred that drove them. He understood this. Indeed, he could not begrudge them such a hunt.

The Devourer issued a single, deep bark that resonated across the hillside. The rest of his pack quivered at his side in a chorus of eager yips as he surged away. His massive shoulders and long legs propelled him through the trees as he broke into a galloping stride. Distance meant little to his eager sprint, bringing him to the edge of the tree line just before the glaring wall with its towering fangs.

The air crackled with energy, sending tremors wracking across his skin as he circled… until he felt nothing. It was like stepping into the shade of a great tree and escaping the scorching sunlight.

He paused, huffing a chortled laugh at it all. The Bright Ones felt all too keenly the agony from the great gem slogging in his belly. It made them blind to the tainted stones atop the wall.

His vile grin widened, splaying eager teeth. Such a shame. Truly. He would have to remember this…. Ah, but then again, he would not need it. He could already feel the little queen's throat in his jaws as he loped forward.

And there he'd been, thinking he would have to wait ages to make another crack it their burning barrier. It was remarkable what strength came from the agony of tortured souls. Poor little Bright Ones. Their pain was delicious.

* * *

"Move your feet," Nova instructed.

Reina gripped her wooden training sword and circled, offering another strike that Nova blocked with maddening ease.

"Good," Nova praised. "Now follow up! One strike alone is nothing. Always be thinking about the next." At the woman's quizzical stare Nova picked up a spare training blade and threw it to the nearby Aveth who watched from his perch atop the sandy ring's fence.

He snatched it from the air and hopped down, joining Nova and adopting a ready stance. She gestured with her head and he fell back to defend.

"One strike is easily blocked," she intoned, slashing for Aveth's ribs only to be foiled with the resounding crack of wood as he lifted his sword. "But three? Five? It gets much harder." She issued a battery of strikes along with her words that Aveth blocked in kind before she whipped in a sharp slap to his thigh with the flat of her mock sword. He offered a smirk that let her know he'd allowed it. She promptly rolled her eyes with a huff of amusement.

"I get the concept, it's the execution that I bungle," Reina offered with a sigh.

"You're already improving," Nova encouraged.

Reina offered a single, raised eyebrow in disbelief.

Nova fought a smirk and lost.

"You really are," she managed. "I know it doesn't feel like it, but I promise you."

Reina relented under the woman's earnest stare, still not believing, but willing to go along with it. Aveth gestured to her and walked her through a series of strikes against imaginary opponents. It was almost like a dance… a sequence that could be repeated until there was no more thought needed, only movement.

Nova watched carefully, her appraising stare marking the movements. In truth, she was glad for Aveth's help. With him teaching, she could watch, and she would catch far more subtleties that way, usually the beginnings of bad habits in fighting that would be harder to train out later.

Aveth stabbed the air with his sword, Reina following. He reached over and adjusted the angle of her strike.

"When in doubt, aim for the throat." he offered with a mischievous smirk. "Just be careful about hitting the spine or you could damage your sword," he lifted his voice, "...like someone is fond of doing."

"Oh don't _even_," Nova glared.

He chuckled and turned back to Reina with a thoughtful expression.

"I don't suppose you remember anything like a nice fireball?" It was half quip, half serious.

Nova leaned closer.

"Sorry, afraid not..." Reina replied, lowering her eyes.

Aveth gave her a cheerful slap on the back.

"Don't fret," he offered. "There are plenty of other ways to fight. And besides, at the end of the day, you already managed to kill a garm. If what happened at the Senge is any indication, you're better than you think. Trust yourself."

Her protest fell away at the memory.

The Senge… Gods… it felt like ages ago.

Nova watched as the two resumed, yet she struggled to remain still. She looked away toward the direction of the city gates and wondered how far the guard had gotten by now. Were they fighting at this very moment? She burned to be beside them, battling that shadow-spawned monstrosity. But… Trentus, Reina, Aveth... they were all safe. She should take comfort in that.

And yet a cold unease still crawled up her spine.

* * *

The mist settled like a shroud over the city streets. It was not all-together unfitting. He would have preferred them to be able to see him coming. Ah, but that was foolish, wasn't it.

The Devourer flexed his paws atop the disgustingly smooth stones. They were… unnatural. Just like these little scampering creatures milling toward him with their dark blades drawn.

They didn't understand.

This was his city now. Marked by the sundered gate, by the forms of his kin spewing from its smoldering remnants. It was such a sweet taste that mingled with their rabbit-like eyes.

Fear.

It was exquisite. His tongue licked at his lips of its own accord.

He turned his molten gaze to the form of a single warrior who dared meet his eyes as other scampering creatures stabbed at his coat. The fact made the fur on his neck bristle in ire as he turned on the male.

There was no fear in this one…. It only made the great wolf snarl as his feet propelled him forward. The mortal simply watched him with a calm acceptance of his assured death, making no move to flee, indeed there would not have been time. Instead he lifted something to his mouth and howled with that strange howl their kind sometimes made.

The Devourer winced at the sound, so strident in his ears. The snap of a mortal's neck had never been so welcome.

* * *

Aveth turned, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

"Nova."

She was at his side in a breath.

"Something is…" he tried, but didn't finish. There was a sound, so faint he was sure he must have imagined it. His ears strained against the mist-choked air.

Nova stared hard despite the courtyard wall blocking her view. One hand gripped her sheath almost unconsciously. Reina joined them, looking toward the city as well. A tingling shivered through her, dancing across her bones.

A horn pierced the silence, the mournful wail like a ghostly cry. Another echoed it in the same, sweeping, intermittent note.

"The city is breached," Nova breathed.

Silence warred for the span of a heartbeat before the courtyard exploded into activity.

* * *

The Devourer ran, his claws digging tracks in the too-smooth stones. His galloping strides caught the ear of his prey and she turned, wide-eyed. She was such a lovely, tiny little thing. Her bones would snap so much like a rabbit's. His mouth parted in anticipation, tongue lolling out in glee. She turned to him and drew a dagger with a steady hand, ah, but her fearful breath betrayed her.

A laugh grated in his throat. He supposed even a cornered rabbit would fight. It would just make the feel of her snapping neck all the sweeter. He barreled toward her, his waiting mouth agape.

A black armored figure darted from the shadows of an alleyway and placed himself directly between them. The Devourer snarled, his vexation two-fold as the bright whelp lifted a shield. Wretched, bothersome things! His feet never broke stride as he snapped for the interloper, harrowing fangs trying every angle as he circled. His efforts were rewarded with a scream as he caught the brightling's shoulder. He bit harder, savoring the feel of tendon and muscle giving way before his teeth. The mortal's armor protested with an eerie cry, but he ignored it, waiting for… Ah! There it was! That wonderful snap of bone! More snaps peppered the air, like cracks of a whip and he rumbled in satisfaction before letting go and lunging for the throat. This time, the screaming stopped, and his lovely plaything fell to the ground, woefully broken.

It hardly mattered as he spotted the little female fleeing down a wide alleyway. He caught up with her easily, letting her turn to face him again with her paltry fang before he tackled her to the ground with his bulk and tore out her throat with vicious glee. Her wide eyes fixed on the sky as he bound past her, bloodied muzzle dripping.

He followed the herd of fleeing people toward the grand wall of the palace where they streamed through the gates. It would not save them. The Devourer threw back his head and howled, the deathly sound cutting through the fear-laced air. Only part of his pack joined him, and he found he could not fault the rest. Terrorizing the streets _was_ a beautiful task. Unless they were dead…. That he would _not_ forgive.

He ran for the great gates, well over two dozen wolves at his back like the night come alive.

* * *

Gabriel's head snapped up from his desk as a horn cut through the air. He stood, toppling his chair as he turned and reached up to the wall behind him. There hung a thin longsword, its silver sheath dull in the light. He snatched it up and strapped it around his waist as he spun for the door and wrenched it open. Black armored guards were already moving as he ran out into the halls behind them and followed as they wound through the palace. With wordless agreement, they made for the grand entry hall with the mural of a tree splayed across its floor.

The palace staff and guards alike streamed in, weapons drawn and ready. Gabriel moved past them all, out into a smaller room and then the courtyard beyond. The grand gates stood open, letting the city's residents take shelter inside. The milling mass of black nipped at their heels, leaving him to swear despite himself. He gritted his teeth as the gates swung shut behind the last refugee and a garish baying rose from beyond. They would not hold. If the events three centuries ago were any indication, gates alone could not keep out the Devouerer.

His eyes searched through the crowd, past the civilians and guards to settle on a trio of figures. Nova had a protective arm around Reina, herding the woman through the throng of people. Aveth worked to support a guard whose black armor was twisted and tattered, blood leaking from his leg.

"Everyone inside!" Gabriel called, though the people needed little urging.

He made his way into the great hall with them. Trentus limped from the shadow of an archway and nodded once to Gabriel.

"I'll lead those who can still fight to the armory, and then get those who can't to safety." He turned and nodded to a man with silver hair and black armor. "You'll lead the guard. Hold the line here." Trentus frowned, and added, almost as an afterthought, "...and take the high steward's word here into consideration."

Gabriel returned the private smirk Trentus cast before the man called for the civilians to follow and vanished with them down a hall. His eyes flicked to the side, almost surprised to see George beside him with a large kitchen knife held with frightening familiarity in his hand.

"George, I need you to go with them," he said.

"The only place I'm moving is to stand between my daughter and whatever horror comes through those doors."

Gabriel's voice stayed soft, yet turned unyielding.

"You're not a fighter. You will die here. And then Reina will be left alone to mourn you. Because she will survive this. We, and Nova, will ensure that."

Gabriel waited, fixing the man with a stare of calm assurance that he did not feel. Lying, it seemed, came easier over the years. A pity. He continued speaking as if George had agreed.

"If you can, find a woman named Erith among the wounded. She's a healer, pale blue robes. She'll need all the help she can get if we're to get everyone back on the front. Or keep them alive..." he bit his lip and let his words fade into silence.

George was silent for a moment that dragged in the painful waiting. The truth grated on him. A bar fight he could break up, but this… this was combat. He'd only be in the way of the actual guard. _Her_ guard. Who didn't need a father lurking around to worry about protecting.

"You keep her safe," he ordered, tucking away his knife.

Gabriel gave a nod as George stepped through the archway and followed in the path of the refugees.

With a sigh of supreme relief, he turned back toward the entryway only to spy a familiar trio, Reina among them. He drew in a breath as a hiss. Was he the only one with half his mind still intact today?

"Nova! Get her gone!"

The warrior's posture faltered, her and Aveth's readied weapons lowering slightly.

"Go!" he insisted.

Reina shook her head from behind them, but he leveled his most potent glare, perfected over centuries. He'd surely reap the consequences once she outranked him, but as long as that day actually came to pass, he would gladly face it. Not even the eyes of Lucinda could sway him.

The three moved reluctantly, threading through the crowd of guards and pausing on the steps. He gestured once with a nod of his head and they vanished into the corridors.

As he turned back around, an absent part of him noted several civilians and palace staff bolstering their ranks with weapons ready and steely determination resonating in their eyes. He had to smile despite himself. Was there any better place to have been born?

A sundering crack resounded from outside.

No one dared to breathe as all eyes turned toward the doors. The wood shuddered under the weight of a massive impact, then another, until the entire hall rang with it like a drum beat. The sound reverberated endlessly, long enough for Gabriel to consider giving the order for the blasted things to be thrown open. He sequestered the fleeting desire as the smell of smoke suffused the hall. A blotch of orange grew along the door, the sound of smoldering wood drifting to him. It spread across the entire panel far too quickly, and then the stalwart protection was gone, leaving behind a dripping orange substance that set the stones smoking.

The Devourer's lips curled in a feral mockery of a grin as he stared at them from the other side. His kin streamed through the gap before him, their feet clattering on the remnants of the iron filigree from the doors.

Gabriel tensed as the wolves met the line of warriors with a chorus of snarls. Several of the shadowy lupines wriggled through the ranks with snapping fangs. One turned as it ran, its baneful eyes fixing on him.

Gabriel unsheathed his blade with a hiss. He waited patiently without so much as a twitch until the beast was in range. It leapt, jaws agape, but he was already moving. A swift step to the side brought him clear of the fangs, and a single arc of his ebon blade severed the beast's throat, glancing off the spine as he pulled it free and shook the inky blood from the tip in one fluid motion. There was no flare, no finesse. He had lived too long for such things. For him, the only way to fight was efficiently. He almost smiled, but the sight of a massive shadow stopped him.

The Devourer darkened the halls with his very presence, padding to them slowly with malice burning in his eyes. He surveyed the mortals with disdain, snarling in a low rumble like a rock slide. His prize was not here. The faint notes of her song grew farther away, and that was unacceptable. He surged into a sprint, ignoring the swords that stabbed at him as his momentum and mass toppled the garishly bright creatures in his path. Magic seared his coat as he bounded onto the stair and dug in with his claws to launch himself onto the upper floor.

He pressed on down the halls amid the sounds of his kin harrowing the mortal's attempts to follow. A grim satisfaction filled him. And look there. He was _still_ glad he'd pulled them from the river.

* * *

Nova managed a swear as she ran. The drumming of heavy paws grew behind them, far too close for her liking.

"In here!" she insisted, wrenching open a set of tall doors.

Aveth and Reina followed her as she shut them all inside.

Reina stopped short and stared, lips parted. A grand room sprawled before her, lined in columns. At the far end, a series of stairs led to a single chair done in the same familiar white stone as the walls. No… not a chair. A throne. Midnight blue padding lined it. Even empty, its high, arched back cast an imposing shadow. Beside it reared delicate statues of The Watcher and The Guardian, their bodies almost crystalline.

She took a step toward it all.

Nova touched her hand.

"We need to keep moving." She pointed to the sides of the columned walls where other hallways branched into the dim shadows that the milky crystals and their light could not reach. "The door isn't the only way in," she continued. Hopefully the beast wasn't smart enough to figure that out, but she preferred caution to luck.

Reina's eyes drifted to the floor as she thought.

"It's me he wants," she said calmly. "To kill me and corrupt the Well…."

"That's not going to happen," Nova insisted.

"Let's get you somewhere safe," Aveth agreed, then looked to Nova. "Any ideas?"

Nova gave a curt nod and looked to Reina.

"Do you remember the hidden room you retreated to after everything at the Senge?"

Reina turned back to her and nodded slowly, but her eyes narrowed. "Running, hiding…. They won't work..."

Neither of them had time to ponder the words as the steady clack of claws grew in their ears. Glowing eyes emerged from a dark hall into the dim room. The Devourer charged with a snarl as Nova moved between him and Reina, drawing her blade as she swore.

"Stay behind us," Aveth insisted, his own sword and dagger at the ready. He charged first, meeting the beast's reckless momentum and lashing out with a flurry of stabs to the face, the throat, anything he could reach. The great wolf skidded to a halt and backpedaled as Aveth's blade found his eye, shaking his head with a growl.

Aveth allowed himself a smirk of triumph that quickly drained into horror. The wound bubbled and churned, slowly reforming into the lost eye and sealing as if it had never happened. Nova stepped forward and likewise gaped for a heartbeat.

"It heals?" she balked before gritting her teeth and launching her own series of strikes.

The Devourer lunged for her with a growl. She launched herself backwards with all the speed she could muster, just managing to clear the snap of his jaws on her arm. He braced his front legs, whipping the rest of his body out to catch Aveth with his hindquarters and knock him to the ground a short distance away. Nova's eyes went wide.

The great wolf's feet hit the floor again and coiled before the beast wheeled, springing toward the prone dunmer. Aveth gritted his teeth, indecision warring within him as he scrambled up. He pushed it aside and gave in to his instincts, sprinting forward with all of his strength and sliding on his knees as he thrust his sword upwards. It caught the soft flesh of the Devourer's belly and sliced it open like an overripe fruit. He rolled away as dark blood spilled from the wound, drenching the floor amid the wolf's garish scream.

A putrid stench filled the air as something hard clattered to the ground, coated in dark ichor. A pale light struggled to shine through the ooze. None of them needed to ask what it was.

Aveth sheathed his dagger and rushed for it, snatching it up only to bite back a scream. The black matter washed over his fingers, burning as it went. He cast it away on reflex. It rolled across the floor, shaking free the clinging globules to reveal a pale surface that glowed with a sickly luster.

Reina ran for it before anyone could stop her, scooping up Aedrasil's heart and cradling it to her chest. Nausea welled withing her at the touch, bringing her to her knees. She set a steadying hand on the floor and managed to glance over to see Nova already looming over the writhing Devourer, her sword poised to sever its head. She hacked downward, splitting open a chunk of flesh as the great wolf pushed himself to his feet and sprang away in a trail of black blood that grew thinner as he circled. The wounds on his stomach knitted shut, followed by the one on his neck. Nova and Aveth glared as one, the later working to flex his burned hand.

"Die already!" Nova raged at the beast.

Yet the Devourer simply shook himself, casting the last remnants of dark ichor from his coat and issuing a rumbling growl.

"Reina, run!" Nova called, holding her sword with both hands.

Reina staggered up and struggled to obey. She made it nearly to the opposite end of the room before sagging against a pillar near the steps to the throne. Nova moved with her all the while, keeping herself firmly positioned between the hulking horror and her queen.

The Devourer stalked forward in time with their steps, his belly low to the ground. His tongue licked at his lips, eyes fixed on Reina. She felt them, and turned, fighting the welling sickness within her. Yet the sensation faded, bleeding from her slowly as a cold luminescence much like moonlight grew in the dim space. She smiled despite it all. Free of the vile creature's belly, Aedrasil's heart was fighting to return to its proper state. She felt it more than saw. Felt _them_, their voices deep within. It had been far too long…. Her eyes snapped back to the Devourer as she threw the beast a defiant glare. He loosed a hateful snarl in answer.

Nova braced her legs between them and issued her own challenge.

"You won't touch her, monster," she promised.

The Devourer's eyes flicked to her an instant before he charged the remaining distance with voracious glee. He leapt, launching through the air with a speed too great for something so large. Nova lifted her sword hastily, intent to cleave him in two. The Devourer struck her arm, his massive bulk tearing the sword form her grasp. It sailed in an arc and clattered askew on the steps of the throne. The great wolf careened past her, clipping the statue of The Guardian as he struck the wall and slid to the floor on his back. The delicate art piece tipped just as the Devourer righted himself, his scrabbling legs slamming into it and sending it pitching forward.

"No!" Nova screamed, a hand outstretched as if she could stop it. But The Guardian fell, shattering into thousands of pieces on the stairs. Her wide eyes found the hilt of her blade, and yet the gleaming sword lay much too far from it.

_ Sink._

The word hissed through her like from a serpent's tongue.

_ Sink into despair and never waken._

Nova shuddered, unable to breathe as she turned her stricken stare up to the great wolf prowling down the steps. His eyes burned, the wheeling molten pools drawing her down, so far down.

She couldn't win. She'd already lost too much. Too many times. She was… broken. Broken like her blade. A relic clinging to nothing.

_Give in. __It's a wasted effort to fight._

The Devourer loomed over her, his mouth parting with obsidian fangs.

_Sink._

The word pulled her, relentless claws digging into pain that no armor could protect. There was no shelter, no safety, and no mercy from the monster's merciless claws. She was drowning. Suffocating in air. Her mouth hung open as she teetered. A shape in charcoal armor appeared before her, but she couldn't make sense of it. Her world reeled and faded into tenebrous depths.

* * *

Aveth stabbed for the beast's eye, forcing it to dance back but a step. It wasn't enough…. The Devourer pressed him, snapping out with slavering jaws. The dunmer steeled himself as the beast's saliva splashed across his armor. The pain was familiar, he told himself. He could take it. He would not abandon Nova, not here, not ever.

_Would she do the same?_

Aveth's eyes widened, as he speared his dagger into the wolf's neck. The body shuddered… not in pain, but as a lilting breath that rumbled from it.

Was the beast… laughing?

_ There is no one who would stand for you._

He snatched back his dagger and staggered away just a step.

_ So sink. Fall below the black waves and let them carry you down._

His hand shuddered and the sound of clattering metal met his ears. His dagger?

_Don't struggle so. No one would mourn you._

The molten gaze held him.

_ You had to know. You were always alone._

* * *

The great wolf's head turned to Reina with heinous delight.

_ There is no one left to save you, little queen. No magic to keep my fangs from your throat._

_So sink._

_Sink into despair and let me end your suffering._

"No."

The Devourer blinked, and cocked his head.

Reina gave a slow smile and pushed away from the pillar, drawing her sword.

"You have no power here, standing in _my_ halls," she hissed. "You are a listless _thing_, driven only by want against something you could never hope to conquer. Me, on the other hand? I'm smart enough to know that I can't kill you. But we can break you. Time and time again." Her hard eyes narrowed. "You should have stayed in your pit, wolf. When we're done with you, you'll need a millennium to reform."

The Devourer's lips peeled back in a feral smile. This. _This_ was the one he remembered. His fur bristled, standing on end as his back legs tensed, gathering himself to spring.

"Come on then, monster," she glared, lifting her blade. "Catch me if you can." She turned on her heel and sprinted away, the drum of heavy claws behind her.

* * *

Nova shifted and groaned, opening a heavy eyelid to find the throne room coated in night. It was silent save for a low moan like a dull wind, and far, far too empty. She couldn't rise, her leaden body refusing more than pushing herself up on her elbows. Her searching gaze found neither Aveth nor Reina, but… that was fine.

Because there before her stood Lucinda.

Bathed in the glow of the moons from the windows, she turned and looked down at her, silvery hair framing her face to rival the starlight. And sweet Ancestors, those eyes…. They were resolute, immovable, the scintillating emeralds somehow much darker than Nova remembered. But it made no difference to her.

"My queen," she breathed.

Yet Lucinda did not smile, her face void of warmth.

"Why?"

The soft lament cut like a blade, pinning Nova in place as her queen's soundless steps strode nearer.

"Lucinda?" she managed.

"I did not think you were so selfish," the queen winced and looked away just as she came within the warrior's reach.

"Selfish…?" she blinked.

This time, when the familiar eyes turned back to her, they brimmed with an icy pain.

"You never gave a thought to me. Do you have any idea what it's like?" She lifted a hand to her head. "I'm a shadow of myself, shattered into fragments! Pieces of myself… left behind, forgotten, and yet in their place are new memories of a life in a new land. But I… _I_ am a stranger in them."

"Lucinda, please!" Nova begged, struggling to rise but only falling again onto her back. "Let me help you! I can-"

"You?" she scoffed. "This is all _because_ of you! You should have left me alone! Left me to sleep away and never waken! How could you force this upon me?"

"Because I made you a promise," Nova declared, meeting her gaze resolutely. "Condemn me, if you wish. I deserve it. Because I wondered the same things myself while searching for you, wondered if I had any right to shatter the peace of your new life. But I couldn't abandon you. I will never abandon you. The Well and all its magic be damned, I had to find you."

"Had to? Had to!" Lucinda balked, trembling. "I can't live like this! And you tell me you _had_ to!? You're beyond selfish! You're a monster!"

She fell to her knees, her trembling hands reaching for Nova's throat. The warrior's eyes went wide.

Nova shook her head fervently.

"Please! Lucinda! I did it because I-"

Yet the hands latched around her throat.

"Because you _what_?"

Nova's eyes went wide. That tone... _She knew._

The woman's pained grimace confirmed it.

"Oh Nova. What did you even hope to have between us? I was the queen. There were things expected of me! What do you think the heads of houses would have said if I'd consorted with my own bodyguard?" The emerald eyes misted and dripped tears onto the warrior's cheek.

"Lu...cin..."

The queen shut her eyes tightly and forced out the words through clenched teeth.

"Even if things were different…. A queen and a half-breed could never be permitted."

Nova's vision dimmed. She stared up into the eyes of the woman that meant everything to her. Yet the face before her wavered, gaining an ethereal hue. With it came a faded voice like a half-remembered dream to her reeling mind. It was disjointed, out of place, and yet here… here was precisely where it belonged, wasn't it?

_Such a shame that you let others dictate what is proper for you._

The phantom's words from what felt like so very long ago, there beside the Well…. She hadn't been ready to hear them then. Yet her mind brought them to bear now as she neared the end? Well wasn't that just like her.

Nova fought for air as she lifted a hand to cup Lucinda's cheek.

"I love you." The grip around her neck slackened marginally as Lucinda recoiled. She took full advantage. "I love you. I will always love you. Until death, Ancestor's, even after death." She drew in a breath gratefully, her warm eyes as immovable as a mountain. "I love you. And I'm done letting everyone else tell me that I can't have the woman I love because of what I am. If you turn me away, let it be because you cannot stand the sight of me. Because I will never leave you."

"I-" Lucinda stammered.

"It's alright," Nova soothed, pulling the hands from her neck with surprising strength. "I'd tell you you don't need to say anything… but I don't actually think you're here. And that means Reina and Aveth are fighting that shadow-spawned monstrosity without me. So I'm afraid I have to ask you to move. Reina needs me, and you're in my way."

Lucinda gave a pained smile that sank away, her body bleeding into a dark, shifting mass. It resolved into something between woman and wolf with a snarl.

Nova rolled away and surged to her feet, leaping back at the bounding lupine with a cry. Not a warrior's bellow, no. As the throne room dissolved into black, it sounded far more like the pain of centuries, finally starting to be set free.

* * *

Aveth sat with his legs crossed, staring at a far too familiar scene. He'd returned here often, though not of his choosing. It was usually when his dreams decided to be particularly cruel. The rational part of his mind insisted that he should have raged, should have panicked. And yet… he was calm. He lifted his gaze to the familiar pattern of iron bars huddled around him and reached out to touch them simply to assure himself that they were solid.

It was a mistake. The stalwart bars triggered something deep within him.

Fear crept in like tendrils of poisonous air, threatening to choke him. But he expected it, knew it, and reminded himself that this too was familiar. He took a deep breath, and began a task: recounting every book he'd ever read, in order of the author's surname. The titles rolled steadily from his lips, easing the rising shudder in his breath.

His calm returned slowly, like a quivering dog tempted by a proffered bone. He knew this place, he reminded himself. He had escaped once. He could do it again.

"You could," a voice assured him.

Aveth froze, his mouth left open. That voice…

A figure stepped from the shadows, the cowl of his robe pulled low. Gloves covered his hands, matching a ragged scarf wrapped around his face. But the eyes… no, he could never hide his eyes. They watched him calmly, their burning ruby gaze filled with an inner light.

"Master," he breathed.

A thin laugh echoed back.

"Didn't I forbid you from calling me that?"

Aveth didn't answer, reaching out instead beyond the bars of his cell as he gaped. The gloved hand met his briefly and squeezed with surprising strength for such thin fingers.

"I'm afraid I've gone and gotten myself caged again," Aveth offered with a wry breath.

Again, that reedy laugh met him.

"Such a troublesome child," the elf scoffed with the shake of his head.

Aveth smirked in turn before it bled away.

"My friends need me. I have to go."

The cowled elf shook his head again, this time in refusal.

"It is because of them that you remain caged."

"What?" he blinked.

"You hold so tightly to them. You must let them go. That woman, especially..." His voice gained a hard edge.

"Master?"

"How much of your life have you devoted to her search? Her quest? Dear child, I pulled you from this cage because you deserved to be free, not still shackled like a dog on a leash."

Aveth's brow furrowed, but his master continued.

"You've wasted so much time already. Let her go. Cast her away or you will never be free. If it wasn't for her dragging you across the land, you could have lived for yourself! Perhaps even have found love, or more still, the desire that has always eluded you."

Aveth's face shifted into a somber smile.

"Is that what so perturbs you?" he asked.

"You know I'm right, child."

Yet Aveth only chuckled and shook his head.

"No. You and the rest of the world don't seem to understand _this_," he scoffed, placing a fist on his chest. "It doesn't work like that. I'm not going to just wake up one day and suddenly find I'd like to carry someone off to bed. Such a thing doesn't interest me. In fact, given the choice, I'd rather wash laundry." He would have laughed, but continued instead. "And maybe I'll always be an oddity for it, but that's how I am. It's how I've been for over five hundred years." He shook his head and ran a hand over his hair. "I can sit here wishing I was like everyone else, and a part of me does. It would be nice if I wouldn't have to explain myself to anyone I wanted to be close to. Because while I might not have an interest in sharing my bed with someone, it doesn't mean I don't want to share my _life_ with them."

He looked up into the glowing eyes.

"It's not Nova's fault. Nor mine. It's simply me. And if you… or the world can't accept that..." he paused, frowning in thought before a small smile tugged at his lips. "Then that's your battle to fight, not mine."

Aveth grinned and stood, raising a booted foot before he issued a hard kick to the cell door.

* * *

Reina skidded around the corner, her hammering heart shrouded only by her labored breaths. She flattened her back against the wall, straining for the sound of pursuing feet. The rhythmic drum of paws was almost a relief. Almost. After all, if it was chasing her, at least Nova and Aveth were safe.

She wheeled away, flying through the halls. Perhaps she could outdistance it, or trap it? She certainly couldn't fight it…. For all her bravado, she was still no more than she had always been: a healer. But there had to be something she could do. Some way to-

Something shattered behind her amid a vengeful howl of rage. It seemed the great hulking brute was having trouble rounding the corners. The poor thing.

At least it was entirely content to hunt her. Though that wasn't a remarkably comforting thought…. She pushed on through another vacant hall, its former guards no doubt fighting beside Gabriel.

She was on her own.

The drumming paws grew closer and she pushed herself harder, her feet turning for a destination she couldn't name. There was somewhere that she wanted. The why escaped her but… it called her, guided her. She needed to be _there_.

Reina turned down a dark hall.

* * *

Aveth opened his heavy eyelids to find a fuzzy form above him. He lurched back, raising a hand.

"It's alright," Nova soothed hurriedly, grabbing for his shoulder. "It's alright."

He blinked again, her outline growing clearer until he could find her eyes.

"What in the Ancestors'-" he began, only to break off and shift his hovering hand to his head.

"Take a breath," she bid.

Aveth turned his face up to hers with a grimace.

"I'm… sorry… I…. An odd dream haunts me."

"That," she hissed, voice low, "was no dream."

Her eyes burned as if she dared him to defy it.

"No," he agreed, lips drawing into a thin line. "It was not."

"Are you well enough to fight?" she asked.

"The line to kill that beast now forms behind me," he promised. "And you?"

"Glad I didn't eat yet," she grimaced. "But I'll manage." She made to grab for her sword, only to find her sheath empty. For a moment, her eyes closed with an oppressive weight, then she surged to her feet and held out her hand to him.

Aveth accepted her help up with a nod of gratitude.

"We need to find Reina," she insisted, turning to glance at each hall diverging from the throne room.

Yet she paused, head tilted slightly. Her mind quieted and filled with a singular vision, a place she knew all too well… She winced, but the touch was familiar. Indeed, she would not forget the feel of the Ancestors and their guidance. Could not. It was burned into her very bones ever since they had helped her in the moments after Lucinda's death. Ignoring it now would be folly.

"This way," she insisted.

For his part, Aveth did not question her as she pushed herself down the hall in a demanding sprint.

* * *

Reina slammed into the door, sending it clattering against the wall before she whirled and threw it shut. She didn't have long. And yet she didn't know what to do. But here… this room… this was where she wanted to be. A delicate mural of spiraling design adorned the floor in pale, blue-green stones. The rest of the circular room was barren save for the braziers ringing the outskirts. Beyond them loomed archways that led into passages so dark, she could not see into them. Still… this was where she _needed_ to be.

"You wanted me here," she murmured.

A faint whisper came back to her, likely the echo of her own voice in the hollow chamber. She drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes, pushing everything else from her mind. It came first through the soles of her feet, a faint pulse that resonated from deep below in the bones of the world. Then came the faint touch of magic, laced through the air like a mist of rain. So faint, yet ever-present, small amounts of it everywhere. There was something else, an ethereal thread that laced through it all, unbreakable, pure.

She didn't understand it at all. But it was beautiful, almost sheltering.

A thunderous impact rattled the door, jarring her back to the dark room as she turned, backing away from the shuddering wood. Well… at least she hadn't lost the beast, running around in circles all this time. The hinges protested with strident cries as the onslaught continued.

She needed to run. There were innumerable passages out of here beyond the archways. Yet she lifted a hand to the scabbard of her sword, steely eyes narrowing. She could not fight the beast. She knew that. But…

Whispers spiraled in like leaves on a scattering wind, disjointed and still too faint to catch. She closed her eyes again, forcing herself to take time she didn't have. With another deep breath, she listened. Fragmented thoughts trilled within her in a dozen different voices. She studied them in turn with clinical detachment. There was an answer here. She knew that much. She tried to grasp it, but there was… too much of herself to hold of all the pieces. Too much of herself….

She had to let go. To simply _not be_, just for a moment.

She opened a hand, and held it up to the empty air as another impact resonated through the space. It was lost to her amid a throng of voices that strung together like notes, forming a grand symphony. She understood the piece, a compelling dance. Yes…. This would do.

Reina shifted Aedrasil's heart into her left arm and drew her blade, turning slowly as the sound of footsteps rang through the space. Aveth and Nova sprinted in through an archway, halting abruptly as they saw her. She offered them a single, dire smile as her sword warmed, lending its own resonance to the song that thrummed through her. The warriors each opened their mouths to speak, but she stopped them with a look.

"I have an idea," she offered. "But I'll need your help." Then, with solemn air, she flourished her sword and offered it hilt first to Nova.

"I can't," the warrior protested.

Yet Reina just kept smiling.

"Someone once told me that being queen means standing back and letting my guard do their job." Her eyes wrinkled with mirth. "Though to be fair, I think he meant more of I should know my limits."

Nova could not find the words to answer.

* * *

The Devourer leered as the paltry obstruction gave way and fell to the floor like a clap of thunder. He shoved his shoulders through the gap and glared at the bright little wretch of a queen before him. His eyes watered at the sight of her, but he would not look away. It would be so sweet to plunge that radiance into darkness with her death. His legs propelled him forward as she met his eager eyes with a bemused look. Her arms opened, as if to embrace him.

He leapt, his forepaws outstretched with claws splayed. She fell hard, his massive bulk driving her down and pinning her in place. The garish light of her forced his eyes shut. He snarled and bared his fangs, snapping his jaws over her delicate neck.

Yet his teeth met only air, clacking together with a jarring crack.

He tried again to the same result, then lifted his muzzle as he tilted his head with one ear cocked. No sweet snap of bone? No exquisite blood, nor rending flesh? He kneaded his claws into her body, but that too felt strangely void of substance. No screams….

His shoulder exploded into agony, a searing fire raging through it. He howled in pain and turned to find one of the dim mortals with a blade that was far too bright. A roar raged from him as he wheeled on her.

Some creatures didn't know when to stay down.

* * *

Reina opened her eyes slowly. Aedrasil's heart was heavy in her leaden hands. She took a step, staggered, and righted herself. Her weary body objected to moving, its strength stolen by the gleaming jewel for their ruse. Reina smiled regardless.

She lifted her eyes to the spectral form of the Well's familiar phantom. It winced under the Devourer's onslaught, then bled away like water, seeping back through the stone. Reina felt the phantom drift back to the Well, just as they, in turn, had sensed her call for aid. In the end, the distraction had worked. She only hoped it would be enough…. Her eyes turned back to Nova, a desperate hope lighting her stare.

Nova struggled to keep her hold on the sword as the Devourer turned on her, snapping and baying. His flesh hissed and shriveled where the weapon touched, sending up the smell of cooked meat. She gritted her teeth and threw all her weight against the hilt in an effort to drive it deeper. Despite her effort, it only managed to plunge in by the length of her hand.

Aveth leveled a kick for the wolf's ribs that resounded with a hollow thud, but had little effect. He changed tactics, sidestepping and stabbing for the throat. His blade barely pierced the unnatural fur, leaving the wound to bubble and seal as he retracted his sword to block the blur of snapping fangs that came for him. He returned the effort in kind, stabbing at the soft mouth only to find teeth clamped on his sword a heartbeat before it was wrenched from his grasp and cast far down one of the dark passages. Aveth made a dash for his weapon, holding his dagger in front of him for a meager defense.

The Devourer ignored him and whirled toward the one with its burning fang. She drew back, keeping close to his body where his jaws couldn't reach. He snarled and whipped his hindquarters toward her. The dim mortal recognized the move now and hurried away, letting him round on her, claws cutting tracks in the too-smooth stones beneath them. She lifted her blade, intent to cut the head from his shoulders.

Ah, but he was faster.

His jaws latched around her left arm with a sick satisfaction. The armor tore like cloth beneath his fangs, then came the pop of tearing tendons and ripping muscles. She screamed, raw and ragged, but it was not the sound he waited for. He increased his efforts and was rewarded with the sweet crack of splintering bones. Warm blood flowed into his mouth, tasting somewhat different from other mortals, but no less exquisite. Other voices lifted amid her screams, reminding him of the battle around him.

He sighed inwardly at the loss of his toy. But perhaps he would make time to play with the little queen. With a rueful growl, he relented, bracing his feet and thrashing his head to the side. She sailed across the room and impacted the wall with the most wonderful sound before clattering to the floor and remaining satisfyingly still.

Something bright burned his eyes and he risked a glance toward the floor where the heathen fang lay discarded. He huffed at it, searching for his true prize. The little queen was here...

Reina gaped, face paling. Her mouth twisted in shuddering starts until she screamed, horror and rage mixing to boil over as she charged for the beast, Aedrasiil's heart falling from her grasp. She had no plan save to hurt, no thought but to kill. She snatched up the fallen blade and leveled it at the Devourer's bloodied throat as he turned to her. Nova's blood…. It only fueled her as she drew back her arms and unleashed everything she had in a single, vicious strike. The blade resonated in her hands, pulsing in time with her heartbeat as it hummed with power, eager to enact her will. It bit deeply into the shaggy skin, sending up a garish hiss as flesh sizzled. She twisted it for good measure, her face a mask of rage. The Devourer wailed in pain, eyes flicking wide as he staggered back to escape, but she would not relent, moving with him every step. Blood welled from the wound, washing over her hands as he thrashed. Her skin began to blister, his blood burning as surely as his vile saliva. Reina didn't care. She pushed with all her might, even as he worked to bite her with gnashing fangs. But the angle of her strike afforded her a measure of protection, just below his jaw. His teeth glanced off her arms and tried for her face, but could not manage a proper hold. Her snarl turned into a sneer of satisfaction as she finally drove her sword deeper and the Devourer's writing slowed even as his chest labored all the more for air.

Another wave of his blood ran over her arms, and this time she began to feel the agony. It was much like reaching inside the sweltering hearth back in their inn. Her arms trembled and protested as her eyes watered.

"Just _die_!" she bellowed, afraid to retreat lest the wound heal.

Yet his eyes still burned with defiant hatred as he kept up his weakening assault.

A dagger sailed through the air to impact the beast's leg as Aveth reappeared, sword in hand. He sprinted for them, but she didn't dare look, her focus entirely fixed on the monster that haunted their shores. She glared defiantly as the snapping jaws faltered, his ears drooping as his body slumped. A shudder ran through him before his front legs buckled and he slowly toppled sideways. He fell in a heap, Reina moving with him all the while. She hardly blinked as the red eyes remained fixed on her with a single-minded focus, still pulsing with their venomous ire.

"Shadow take you," Reina cursed. "You and all your kind."

The lips peeled back in a defiant snarl.

"I'll kill you again and again. As many times as it takes," she she spat before a grin split her face. "This is twice now. So what's a third?"

His lips trembled in a soundless growl, his jaws offering one last pitiful effort to bite her. The eyes glared, their hatred a palpable force that simmered in the air. Yet the glowing orbs blinked once, then closed slowly, his body going entirely still as a final exhale shuddered free.

She took in a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, then staggered back and stared at the monster that had haunted them for so long. It would never be over. But at least it would be quiet for the next few centuries. Her agonized arms drew her back to the to the beast, wiping the black ichor on its wretched fur. She didn't look at them, not yet.

Reina turned on her heel and sprinted to Nova's fallen form, dropping to her knees beside her. Her hands hovered above the body as she thought furiously. Nova's breathing was shallow. It rattled in her lungs, damp and disconcerting.

Aveth drew even with her.

"What… what happ-" he broke off. "What can I do?"

"Listen closely," she hurried. "We don't have much time."

* * *

Hushed tones filled the space, distant and meaningless. Nothing to grasp, nothing to hold, and yet, something pulled…. It was a need, something that had to be done. Yet it was so very elusive. The soft dark was so very calming, alluring. Perhaps just a moment of sleep would-

No.

Nova forced her eyes open a sliver.

Reina rushed forward, holding the warrior's head in her hands as she hovered over her face.

"Stay with me," she pleaded, voice strangely distant in the warrior's ears.

Nova blinked, and blinked again. Her brow furrowed deeply before she finally replied with a single, simple word.

"Okay."

Reina smiled despite it all.

The warrior blinked again, wondering where she was. The room looked different…. A quiet thought pointed out that it was probably because she was stuck looking at the ceiling. The rationality drifted away like scattered leaves.

"The Devourer..." she gasped, struggling to rise.

"Dead," Reina replied, stilling her with one hand as she pulled Aedrasiil's heart closer with the other.

Nova let her head fall back against the stone floor with a sigh of relief.

Two people shuffled around her with faces she recognized, but couldn't place. Their robes, however, she knew distinctly, the delicate, powdery blue marking them as healers. She wondered why they were here, how they'd gotten here, and a dozen other things before it was too much work for her churning mind and she surrendered to silence, letting herself simply stare at Reina. For her part, the woman smiled back and brushed aside the hair from Nova's forehead.

"I can't… feel my arm," she felt she had to offer, if only to quell her rising panic.

"That's intentional," one of the healers assured. "We need to move you somewhere safe." His gossamer golden hair was haggard, escaping the leather cord that tied it back. "Can you stand?"

"Yes," she nodded at once. Maybe.

And then there was Aveth on her good side as the healers tied her arm into a makeshift sling and sprinted off. No doubt there were more within the castle who were far worse off than she.

"Are you-" she huffed, struggling as Aveth set a hand behind her shoulders and pulled her up to sit.

"We're alright," he assured, helping her stand fully and settling her good arm around his shoulders.

"I don't need-" she tried, working to move away and walk on her own. Her body, however, had other ideas, leaving her teetering dangerously.

Nova swore and demanded her legs tell her what they thought they were doing. They didn't answer. She leveled a mental glare at them in turn.

Aveth drew her back to him with patient insistence as Reina spoke.

"You're going to be groggy for a time. And unsteady, so don't try to push yourself." The tone brokered no argument, and Nova had to turn her blinking gaze toward the woman with a not-so-private smile on her lips. Healing instructions already? That hadn't taken long.

They turned and made for a door but Nova stopped before the massive corpse of the Devourer. She stared with a war of feelings, none she could currently name in her state. Still, something bright caught her eye, embedded in its throat.

"The sword," she insisted.

Aveth paused, but eventually nodded once and carefully extracted himself before striding over and grasping the hilt firmly. He heaved, muscles straining for a moment until the sword came free without a speck of blood on it.

Reina moved to support Nova as he did. The warrior glanced to her and only then noticed the heavy bandages covering her arms.

Nova immediately panicked.

"What-"

"I'll be alright," she assured, tracing her fingers across the woman's cheek.

The touch calmed Nova in a way no words would.

"Someone's going to have to tell me what happened…" she insisted words slurring slightly.

"Me too," Aveth agreed as he returned to his place beside them, passing the sword to Reina.

A hiss rose in the air. They turned as one toward the prone corpse, tensing. Flesh bubbled and oozed, running off the muscles and bones in rivers until they too turned to black ichor and slogged down to pool on the ground. The mass of it shrank as if it seeped through the very floor. A low tremor vibrated from it all like a false heartbeat, raising the hair on the backs of their necks.

Nova stepped closer unconsciously. Aveth caught her hand and drew her back.

There was a faint image through the bubbling black, almost like a tree of thorns scattering seeds around a deep pool. Or perhaps… a well. One of the seeds wriggled and grew, the faintest sound of a pup's cry carrying to them.

And then it was gone, vanished as if it had never been.

The floor returned to its glossy polish, and for a moment, no one moved.

"We… did it?" Nova managed, blinking.

"She did," Aveth corrected, nodding to Reina.

"Team effort," she insisted, sheathing her blade.

They stayed for a moment, watching the floor as if it would suddenly collapse or catch fire. But it remained just as inert as always, the pattern reflecting a wane light from no source they could see.

"We should rejoin the others," Aveth reminded.

Reina nodded and led them from the room, pausing to cast one last look back. She drew in a deep breath and turned her eyes back forward.

They hurried back to the entry hall, with all the speed they could manage. Bodies of guards and civilians laid strewn on the floor and yet, all eyes turned to Reina as she entered. Gabriel's face, spattered with an errant streak of black stood out among them. He smiled at them, and placed a hand to his chest.

"Long live the queen."

The call carried across the stillness, picked up by a voice, then two, until the entire hall rang with the chorus.

Reina blushed, and fidgeted before she halted the motion. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stood proudly, drawing her sword once more and thrusting it into the air to a chorus of cheers.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Tide and Time

The morning dawned cool and clear, the light shining through high, arched windows into the massive room with its equally high, arched ceiling. Reina walked down the long aisle between neat rows of Aelyrians, standing at attention. Mothers and children, warriors and tradesmen, all watched her passage with smiles gracing their ethereal faces as she moved calmly, head high. At any other time, she would have wondered how in the world she did not shrivel from all the attention. But this? Well she'd already done it once before, hadn't she? And she hadn't embarrassed herself then.

George and Gabriel waited at the end of the room by altar with a cerulean pillow settled on it. Yet her eye was drawn to what rested on the lovely cloth. The silvery gleam of a woven circlet reflected the warm light like a jewel itself, scattering the rays of sun around the room. An elf with dark hair waited behind it, his white robes trimmed in delicate runes of turquoise. He offered a polite dip of his head at her searching gaze. Reina nodded in turn, then glanced away, managing to spy Aveth in the fore of the crowd.

She faced it all with a simple smile. Her elegant, layered robes of white and deep blue draped heavily, almost like armor for their thickness. Yet for all her trappings, her memories, or her soon to be station, they were not what gave her strength.

Her eyes looked to her side where Nova walked a pace behind her.

Beside her once more.

Gods, it felt like she had waited for centuries. Maybe she had. And her dear Nova had waited even longer…. Sweet Divines, she hadn't meant for any of that to happen. She yearned to take the warrior's hand as they walked, to nestle herself against that strong shoulder. Ah, but there was ceremony to be observed, wasn't there? A pity.

They reached the altar and she looked to her father with a smile. He beamed back at her, no mask of gruff bravado, no mark of displeasure. Just her father, proud as the day was long.

The elf in white spoke at length as she knelt. She knew the words, and to her chagrin, didn't bother to listen. Instead she focused on the verdant vitality of the magic flowing through her. It was still strange, still foreign. And yet there came a gentle presence from the depths that settled like a hand upon her shoulder.

Elisideen. Divines it felt unreal, to have it all back again. A sudden smirk lit her face before she hurried to hide it against an errant thought. Maybe she should start praying to the Ancestors now. She chased the thought away.

The elf fell silent, prompting Reina to lift her head. Gabriel took the silver circlet in his hands and lowered it to rest on her brow. She swallowed hard. It was heavy. Far more than she had imagined. But that was the truth of the crown, wasn't it?

She stood and turned to the assembled masses as Gabriel lifted his voice in a familiar call.

"Long live the queen!"

The people echoed it, shaking the very stones. _Her_ people.

Nova… and even her father! Reina smiled wide until her entire face hurt, but she didn't stop. In that moment, she never wanted to stop.

Gabriel lifted a hand and they fell silent as one.

Reina took a breath, gathering her thoughts. She wrestled with the right words for a moment, then simply lifted her voice and said what was in her heart.

"Thank you all. I'm both honored and humbled to stand before you today. Even as I'm granted this honor, I know that there's a long road ahead of me, and much I need to learn. But I'm ready for it. With all of you beside me, I know we can make this an age of prosperity and peace for generations to come."

Another chorus rose, and Reina never lost her smile. She watched them, then spoke softly to the eternal guardian at her side.

"I want to live up to their belief in me."

"You will," Nova promised, her eyes welling with pride.

* * *

George caught his daughter's arm as they moved into a quiet hall. The rest of the procession continued on at his nod, leaving them alone in the stillness.

"I'm so proud of you, my sweet girl," he praised softly, wrapping her in a strong hug. "And I think your mother would be proud of you too."

"Thanks, Dad," she smiled, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Whatever happens, I'll always be here for you," he promised.

Words were insufficient, and so she hugged him hard.

"Especially," George smirked, "if there's a flying bear outside your window in the middle of the night."

Reina drew back with a groan.

"It was one time!" she huffed. "And it was a very legitimate concern!"

He tousled her hair, crown and all, then prompted her onward.

"Go on, then. They're waiting."

She nodded once and made to follow the others, but his words stopped her.

"Just don't forget about your old man in the middle of all your queenly things… aye?"

She looked back with a tender smile and promised, "No chance."

* * *

Reina looked up to the crystalline tree sequestered deep in the cavernous depths. Aedrasiil thrummed with life and light, the vibrancy almost making her squint. She reached out a hand and trailed it across the heart of the tree. Veins of black still ran through it, but she sighed in relief to see they were fading. Each day that dawned saw it further restored to its former glory. Beside her the phantasm of Elisideen smiled.

"Soon," was all he said.

Reina stepped back and turned to him.

"And the wall?" she pressed.

He nodded sagely.

"We work to mend the gems atop it as we speak. His taint does not cling so tightly to them. They will likely be renewed by the sun's next rise."

"Good," she sighed in relief. At least now the wall's barrier would be back to its former strength.

"Though with you on the throne, it's almost a moot point," he continued with a small chuckle.

Reina paused, wondering if he'd read her thoughts, but let the matter go as she closed her eyes. The magic pulsed within her, in time with her own heartbeat. She felt it in the Well, the wall, and… the people, as if each of them was a star that formed the patchwork of the night sky.

Elisideen touched her shoulder.

"They come."

She nodded once and turned away toward the long tunnel before her feet paused. In a single motion, she ran back to the ancient king and embraced him. His arms wrapped around her, just as warm as they'd always been. She drew away and turned her feet back to the Well's room, making it there just as the door opened.

Gabriel remained where she had left him, his patient eyes watching calmly as Nova entered with George and Aveth in tow.

"Alright! So how do we do this?" George asked, cracking his knuckles with a grin.

Gabriel chuckled.

"You and Nova have the same level of patience," he mused.

The warrior and the innkeeper exchanged a shrug.

"Alright then," Gabriel continued. "Are you sure you wish to stay on the island?"

George simply lifted a patronizing eyebrow.

"Yes," he drawled. Reina moved to stand beside him and he threw an arm around her shoulders. "You'll have to tie me up in the middle of the night and ship me off to keep me from my girl."

Gabriel gave a nod, deftly hiding his burgeoning smirk before speaking.

"Now, normally for matters of citizenship we would take outsiders to the Senge. But the two of you are an exception."

Aveth interrupted with a chuckle.

"Really? Citizenship? I've been coming and going here with Nova for centuries. I have my own room."

Gabriel's green eyes flicked to him and the dunmer chuckled before holding up his hands in surrender.

The high steward fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. No one respected ceremony anymore. He was saved by a bubbling like a gentle brook and looked over to find the Well's familiar phantom taking shape. The feminine figure favored him with a private smirk and just the barest shrug of its shoulders.

At least someone understood.

Aveth, for his part, gaped. Not. Fair. It only made Nova grin in triumph at him as the childish taunt of 'her ancestors were better' rang through her.

The phantom leveled a glare at her that was pointedly not amused before drifting to George and lifting ethereal hands to settle on either side of his head. George fought the urge to step back.

"Fear not, child," it soothed in a myriad of voices. "For you, this is but a formality. We could hardly deny the father of our queen, after all." The lips pulled into a smirk.

"Fair… point..." George tried, and yet he wasn't entirely convinced.

Gabriel took pity on the man and chimed in with, "Outsiders must be judged and found honorable, their hearts free of malice."

"That hardly seems fair," George grumbled. "You don't judge your own kind."

"No, we shape them from birth to strive becoming paragons," he countered.

George made to retort but fell silent as a warmth suffused him, as if he stood in the midst of a grassy meadow in spring. His irritation washed from him at once, leaving a simple serenity.

The phantom removed its hands and drifted back.

"There is no doubt. You are worthy."

George simply dipped his head in an uncharacteristic bow.

It moved to Aveth next, who lifted a hand in defense.

"Fear not, little one. No harm will befall you."

"You..." he began only to bite down on the words.

The hands lifted to his head and settled there. He struggled for a heartbeat before he was in the depths of a warm ocean, the gentle currents lulling him into dreamlike state. The waters grew darker around him as even blacker shapes moved within. He knew them, their forms. They pulled at him, and yet...

The phantom released him.

"You have endured much, haven't you? And yet your heart remains firmly rooted in the light."

"What did you see?" he demanded in a hushed voice.

The figure chuckled.

"It does not work that way. Not for this. Fear not, your secrets are safe."

Aveth bit his lip and gave a somber nod.

"Worthy," the phantom proclaimed.

"Then it is my honor to formally congratulate you both on your citizenship," Gabriel smiled.

"What, I don't get a plaque? Or a medal?" George laughed, throwing his free arm wide.

"If you'd like, you can help me fill out your proof of citizenship forms," he offered. "And then frame them. It's almost like a plaque."

"Pass."

"Thought so."

Gabriel's smirk faded as his smile turned earnest.

"Well George, now that the island is open to you, what do you think you might like to do?"

"Open an inn, of course!"

The elf hesitated.

"I… well, I should have mentioned earlier that Outlanders are not permitted land here…. Though given your relationship to our queen... I can call a council and perhaps-"

"He can have mine," Nova offered flippantly. "Problem solved."

"It's not a cup of sugar you can just hand out," Gabriel huffed.

She ignored him.

"You have land?" Aveth blinked.

"Vassal," she shrugged simply, pointing a finger at herself. Seeing his continued confusion, she added, "I'm entitled to land, I've just never cared to claim it." She saw no reason to add that staying in the palace instead let her be closer to her queen. George reached out and clasped her shoulder, further prompting the thought to remain definitively silent. But she still managed a smile and a nod in his direction.

Gabriel shook his head with a sigh, but accepted the proceedings with a shrug. Rather than argue the point, he simply offered, "I'm afraid there's not really much call for an inn here."

"Well the people you trade with won't want to stay on their crowded ship the whole time they're unloading cargo, eh?" he returned with a wink. "And besides, once you and yours try _my_ cooking, why, you'll never eat anywhere else!" He paused for a moment and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Though I'd best set to selling my old inn. If my brother hasn't burned it down yet..."

"I can send someone for the task if you-" Gabriel began.

"No," George cut him off. "That's alright. I'll see to the old girl myself and pack up a few things."

"With a team of guards," the high steward insisted.

George fixed him with a look. Gabriel stared right back.

"You realize, I will invariably win, yes?" the elf finally stated. "Specifically for the fact that your daughter now has control over..." he paused in mock thought, "_all_ of the guards?"

George looked between him and Reina. Her chipper face was all the affirmation he needed. A growl of exasperation seeped from him until he eventually surrendered with, "Three guards."

"No promises," Reina chimed. She turned to the phantom and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she gathered her thoughts. "Thank you."

"For?" the melodious voice questioned.

"Helping us. If you hadn't distracted the Devourer…" she winced.

The ethereal features warmed, yet the eyes remained somber.

"A pity we could not do more. But we cannot interfere with this world physically. Our barriers around the city and island seem the only omission to this rule. We guide, we guard." It paused, then added, "Besides, both of us know I drew upon your strength to manifest so far from the Well."

"I think the words you're looking for are 'you're welcome'," Nova goaded.

The phantom turned its unwavering gaze to her.

"I should remind you that within the Sanctum I _am_ able to interfere. In numerous ways. Such as conjuring a lightning bolt."

Nova wisely snapped her mouth shut on her next words. Instead she managed, "Erm, well I think we should be going if we're to keep your appointment with the healers." She turned to Reina who chuckled with a nod. The woman hugged her father, and thanked the phantom in turn before excusing herself and following Nova out of the room.

* * *

Reina sat on the soft bed in the healer's ward. She had a room all to herself, likely the benefit of her newfound station, yet she hardly spared it a glance. Instead, her eyes were fixed on the healers as they moved. They'd learned this time, at least. The two of them carried in herbs and worked to mix a poultice that would have made Healer Lee cry. Reina peered around them to watch their work despite the fact that she's already badgered them into teaching her how to make it. Well, alright, _badgered_ was a strong word. Really she'd just asked politely. And insistently. And incessantly. She hadn't _ordered_ them. That counted for something, right? Now if she could just manage to learn their spells…. It was something to strive for, at least.

Nova leaned back against the wall and watched the healers carefully apply the salve to the raw, red burns that ran down her arms in rivers, marking the path of the Devourer's blood. The warrior kept the wince from her face at the painful sight. The burns did not respond to healing magic. It was becoming far too common, disturbingly so. Perhaps their armors needed adjusting. She mused on this as the healers dressed the wounds in white cloth once more and bowed before exiting the room.

Nova moved to Reina's side and threaded her fingers into the woman's grip.

"They say the burns..." Reina tried. "The scaring will most likely be permanent."

Nova frowned, searching for words to ease such a thought. Reina's quavering voice cut into her efforts.

"Still love me?"

Nova's head snapped up.

"Always," she breathed. The single word was a solemn vow, unbreakable, eternal. She carefully lifted Reina's hand and bowed, placing her lips lightly to the cloth.

"Besides," Nova grinned, displaying her formerly mangled arm to reveal no signs of the trauma save a garish burn wrapped in white. "It just means we match now."

Reina reached out her free hand with a glowing smile, beckoning the warrior into an embrace. Nova took an eager step forward when a knock sounded. She grimaced, then rolled her eyes and Reina did the same with a shrug.

"Come," she called.

In stepped a woman with a familiar amethyst shawl tied over her gossamer blond hair. Her blue eyes lighted as she spied them.

"Good day, Laurel," Nova offered with a nod.

"Are you ready?" she grinned in an eager breath. Her body nearly bounced in place as she waited for the answer.

Nova looked to Reina and lifted a single, quizzical eyebrow.

"I asked for her help with an outfit for tonight," Reina offered with an impish grin.

"Ancestors save you."

Laurel either didn't hear or didn't care.

"I could help you too, dear! Some robes? Oh! With a shapely cut to show off your physic!"

"No."

"You can even pick the color! I'm sure I can find you _something_ you like!"

"You really can't," Nova refuted, dryly.

"Or even a dress!" her voice lifted an octave as she clasped her hands.

Nova met her eyes and put all the malice she could muster into a glare.

"No force, not even the Ancestors themselves, will put me in a dress," she hissed.

Reina smirked wickedly, but smoothed her expression as she leaned up close to Nova's ear.

"Run because I love you."

"You're the best."

With that she made a mad dash for freedom, out into the halls and then the city streets. Her feet turned toward the palace where decorations were already being strewn from every available surface. There was the faint smell of pyres that lingered in the air, like a half-remembered dream, but she put them from her mind. It was too dark a thought for such a day. She turned her face toward the welcome breeze drifting in from the sea and smiled.

* * *

Aveth lifted a mask for inspection and chuckled. The small room held dozens of the things settled on the walls, some painted in delicate colors, others done entirely in the likeness of animals, albeit with a wolf distinctly missing. He couldn't blame them.

"What's so funny?" Nova prompted.

"All of you," he returned. "A masquerade? It seems uncharacteristic."

"So we borrowed a few things from Outlanders," she huffed. "It's still nice for us. On an island where we all know each other in face if not by name? It's the perfect thing to really meet someone. Then you have to forget what you think you know about them and really just listen."

"Nova, that was… wise!" he praised with a smirk.

"Eh, Gabriel talks a lot," she dismissed.

"And now you've ruined it," he sighed with the roll of his eyes before turning back to the masks and lifting one for inspection. "What do you think? A fox? An owl? Ooh, maybe a dragon..."

"Or you could go as a donkey."

"Why would I- oh. Oh I see what you did there. Rude."

Nova gave a devious chuckle, entirely too pleased with herself.

Aveth cast his eyes to the ceiling again with a rueful smirk.

"So what do you plan to use?" he asked to divert her focus.

Nova's arm lifted to reveal the mask at her side. Aveth's mirth vanished.

"A dog?"

She smiled.

"Are you sure that's-"

The warrior held up a finger.

"Don't worry. It's not out of self pity or such. At first it was because if they were going to call me it behind my back, I'd beat them to it and own it. Then at least it would be mine. But now? Well… a dog's loyalty never falters. I can respect that," she finished with a nod.

A smile crept along Aveth's face. Loyalty yes. He would argue loyalty and love, as a matter of fact. And that did indeed fit her perfectly. Whether she knew it or not. He returned to studying the masks as an easy silence fell over them.

"Aveth?" she called softly.

"Hm?"

"That place we saw… when the Devourer died. Did it… make you hunger?" she bit her lip as he turned back to her. For a moment, he almost thought her eyes flicked to crimson.

"And yet, like it was entirely wrong?" he offered. "Like it was trying to pull you in?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Indeed," he agreed.

Another silence drifted between them. This time it was his turn to break it.

"I know it must seem odd, but… If we have time someday… I'd like to tell you about my master."

Nova blinked in surprise but banished it at once.

"We'll _make_ time." She hesitated for a moment, then offered something that had lingered in the back of her mind for far too long. When she spoke again, her words were soft, as if she expected reproach. "I'd like to know more about your… what you went through. If that's okay. You told me back in Quintillius's manor and I didn't feel right pressing for details. But I don't want to just ignore it and if it seemed like I did then I'm sorry and it was wrong to do so," she offered in a rushed breath.

Aveth crossed the distance in two easy strides and settled a hand on her head.

"You're overthinking things. It didn't seem that way to me at all." He paused in thought a moment. "I'd… like to share those things. Just maybe not all of them. Not yet anyway."

"Of course," she agreed, earnestly. "When you're ready." She bit her lip and pushed away her hesitation as she hugged him hard, and let him be the first one to pull away.

"Come on," he bid. "The party will be starting soon."

"Can I pick your mask?" she asked with an impish grin.

"Not at all."

* * *

Nova removed her mask and scratched her nose with a grateful sigh, then her eyebrows for good measure. Gabriel elbowed her with a pointed look. It was only heightened by the mask of a fox that covered the top half of his face. To his credit, it suited him, though maybe it had more to do with his matching orange robes. Or his personality, she smirked. Probably that one. He gestured to her emphatically and she returned the mask to her face with the hidden roll of her eyes. Such a stickler for rules, that one. There were no straps to tie, they simply stayed on their faces. She wondered who had bothered to take the time in perfecting the peculiar spell, but let the matter go.

She moved away from him to survey a long table laden with food and treats. George stood on the other side, his chosen mask in the likeness of a bear with the paint resembling fur in uncanny detail.

"Come to try some of my soon-to-be-famous foods?" he grinned. "My new inn will be the talk of the town!"

Nova blinked, her eyes surveying the length of the table.

"You made all of this… in half a day?" she managed.

"Oh I had a bit of help," he dismissed with the wave of his hand. "Though I wonder if they'll let me bring Luke back here…. Or maybe I'll have him take over the old inn. He's a good enough lad."

Nova listened politely, more for the fact that he was Reina's father than anything.

"So… what's good?" she tried.

"Everything," he returned emphatically.

She shrugged and grabbed a drink in a tall glass with her thanks and made a hasty exit. For a moment, all she could see in the grand room was the throng of people. They danced in the center with an octet of musicians setting the elegant pace with their thrumming notes. Far in the back sprawled sections of tables and cushioned chairs where a surprising amount of games were underway. And still more people threaded between them…. She suppressed a grumble.

Nova turned away from it all and looked past Gabriel to the trio of steps leading to a long table lined in chairs, the center one far more ornate than the rest. Yet none of it mattered as she saw Reina weaving her way toward her through the crowd. Her mask was a simple cerulean blue that framed her eyes. In truth, it could have been an old boot and she would still have looked lovely. Her similarly colored robes moved with her as she made it to Nova, grinning. Aveth followed in her shadow, foregoing his usual charcoal armor for a dark coat that hung down to his knees. Nova, similarly attired, assured herself that she wore it better. Besides, he'd chosen a bat as his mask. How boring. And creepy. Gabriel met them as Nova turned her focus back to Reina. The grin hadn't faded at all. In fact, it was starting to worry her… Significantly...

"Dance with me!" Reina grinned, holding out her hand.

"No," Nova refused.

"I could order you," she returned in a sing-song voice.

"You could try," the warrior smirked.

Reina lifted a finger to her chin. "Hmm, Gabriel?"

"Yes, my queen?" he answered.

"Do we have a dungeon?"

"We do, my queen."

Nova huffed with a brazen toss of her head and lifted up her thin glass. "Chain me up, sure. I'd escape in a day."

Reina pointedly waited until the warrior took a sip of her drink and scooted close to her ear.

"I didn't say you wouldn't enjoy it."

Nova immediately choked, coughed, recovered, and blushed scarlet all in the span of three heartbeats. Her eyes darted around wildly to ensure no one else had heard before looking back to Reina with her mouth agape, words failing her entirely.

For her part, Reina simply regarded her with a wicked smile.

"You…. But…. I…." Nova stammered, her ears gaining a rosy hue in turn.

Gabriel leaned around Reina's shoulder and chuckled deviously.

"I _really_ want to know what you said..."

Nova managed to compose herself enough to level a deadly glare at him.

"Over my cold, dead, corpse," she promised.

"Oh we won't go that far, Love," Reina promised.

Nova died. Or at least she was pretty sure she did. She let her head drop with a piteous groan.

"Spirits..." she bemoaned. To her horror, Aveth's deep laugh joined the fray.

"Oh we're going to get along nicely," he promised, favoring Reina with a smile.

"Just. Bury. Me," Nova pleaded.

Reina took pity on her and let the words go without comment.

"Come on," she urged, patting the warrior's defeated shoulder. They strode slowly up to their table.

Gabriel smirked and glanced sidelong at Reina.

"If you tell me what you said, I'll tell you a wonderful story regarding Nova and a rather embarrassing attempt at archery involving a horse and five buckets."

"Don't. You. Dare!" Nova hissed pointedly.

Reina tsked and settled a hand on Gabriel's shoulder.

"My dear steward, you don't seem to realize that I can get any information I want out of my little Nova," she remarked.

"Now wait a-" Nova blinked.

Gabriel offered a dastardly smirk.

"Oh? Is that before or after-"

"Can we change the subject!?" Nova interrupted.

"During," Reina answered with a smirk in turn as Gabriel devolved into melodious laughter.

Aveth looked between them, brow furrowed.

"During? During what?" he wondered.

"Nothing!" Nova insisted, her voice raising an octave.

Gabriel leaned behind Nova and Reina's backs.

"Midnight negotiations," he said, voice low.

Aveth processed it for a moment before…

"Ooh," he drawled.

"I'm going to kill you, Gabriel," Nova promised, leveling a caustic glare.

Aveth moved to wrap an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

"My little Nova! All grown up! I'm so proud of you!"

"I hate you all. So much. Right now," Nova forced through gritted teeth. Sweet Ancestors, just dig a hole and bury her in it. Lightning bolt? Anything?

Spirits.

* * *

Gabriel stepped from their table and rolled his shoulders, leaving their meandering conversation behind him. He made his way to George's table and took up a cup of tea with a grateful sigh. A figure in pale blue caught his eye, her white mask askew as if adorned as an afterthought. He made his way to her and offered a slight bow.

"Good day, Erith."

"I'm afraid I haven't time for pleasantries," she offered with a wince.

"Of course, I'm sure a healer's work is never done," he agreed.

She hesitated, glancing around at the assembled guests.

"Ah," Gabriel surmised, drawing her away. "Is it about that _special_ curative I asked you to look into?"

"It is," she affirmed, "and I'm afraid I've hit a snag."

"Oh?"

"All the other information was correct, but for the last step? Well…" She pressed her lips into a thin line. "It requires a black soul gem. Filled."

Gabriel winced.

"You're sure? There's no other way?"

"I'm afraid not," she sighed, running a hand through her brown hair.

Gabriel loosed a long breath through his nose.

"I suppose it can't be helped. I'll make the necessary arrangements."

"Surely not to..."

"No, no, I was thinking more of a trade with the mainland. For one… already filled."

"Ah… good." Her relief was palpable. "Then… will you inform them?"

Gabriel allowed himself a smile.

"Oh not quite yet. I'm not certain how they would react to a cure." He glanced back over his shoulder to their table and took a small sip of his tea. "For now, I'll let them enjoy the festivities."

"As you like," she shrugged. "I need to get back."

"Of course. Thank you, Erith, and as always, I appreciate your discretion. I will present them with the offer at a better time."

A smirk crawled its way over Erith's lips.

"You just want a better opportunity to gloat."

Gabriel assumed a stricken expression.

"Why my dear Erith, I would never stoop to such a dishonorable thing."

She threw back her head with a scoff, striding away before calling back over her shoulder. "Of course not, High Steward."

Gabriel chuckled at her back. He took all of two steps before a voice fixed his feet to the floor.

"How curious that you should still be called that."

Gabriel forced a flawless smile on his face as he turned to find an elf with black hair and dark eyes watching him from behind a pale mask.

"You've taken no apprentice," he continued, "and we've no other steward, well… not since your wayward sister abandoned us for the mainland and its _humans_, that is."

Gabriel nearly drew in a steadying breath. But that would show weakness. He would sooner offer his throat to a wolf than allow the elf the satisfaction.

"Good day, Thranen. We are honored that the head of the mining houses could grace our celebration."

Yet the elf's eyes only narrowed, silently demanding an answer to his words. Gabriel weighed his options carefully before he finally relented.

"I suspect it is habit, more than anything," he offered, with that same smile.

"Yes," Thranen mused absently, smoothing the layers of his black robes as he inspected the fine silver embroidery along his sleeve. "Still, quite curious. Almost as curious as how a human now sits the Aelyrian throne."

It was a comment on the weather, an absent musing. And yet it reeked of treason. Gabriel's eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly, but that was all it took for the air to gain a tinge of lightning.

"Why, esteemed guest, you would not be speaking ill of our queen, blessed by our own ancestors, and who is in fact, Lucinda reborn?"

The elf's eyes slid back to meet Gabriel's.

"Of course not, _steward_. Simply remarking on the changing of times."

"Indeed, they are quite turbulent," Gabriel agreed with a slow nod. "Some even find them too great a current to fight against. Which reminds me, good Thranen… As I hear it, your brother's household is quite prosperous. If the burden of leadership proves too much for you, it would be a simple matter for me to shift it onto his shoulders." He paused, and made a show of tapping his chin in thought. "Why, all that would require is our beloved queen's signature on the proper documents. And your own, of course." His eyes turned cold. "But I'm sure that could be arranged."

The elf sucked in a breath with an audible wince, even as his back stayed poised.

"How fortunate for us that I am more than capable," Thranen bit out.

"Then let us pray for your continued good health," Gabriel smiled.

Thranen's jaw clenched as he spun, boots clacking sharply as he retreated into the crowd.

"Is he going to be a problem?"

Gabriel glanced to Trentus as the man drew up beside him, remarkably silent.

"Oh not for long," he smirked. "I can deal with him at present. And in the mean time, I can train our queen in the art. If she's half as good a diplomat as I think she'll be, he'll have nowhere to run."

There was a pause broken only by the graceful swell of music.

"You sure I can't just tell Nova he insulted Reina and hand her a sword?" Trentus mused, straight-faced.

Gabriel answered with a slow, creeping smile that formed into a wicked chuckle.

"Sadly," he finally offered, "there's a right way to do things, and a _satisfying_ way to do things."

Trentus sighed in disappointment and limped away to procure his fourth vegetable pie of the night from George's table. Truly, the palm-sized things were too delicious for either of their own good. Now if only he could keep the sauce out of his beard…. Ah, but it was a fine battle to strategize.

For his part, Gabriel returned to their table, settling into a chair with a grateful sigh.

"Conducting secret meetings with secret plots?" Nova asked.

"Always," he remarked calmly, taking another sip of his tea and ever so pleased to see Nova's face scrunch as if she was truly starting to worry. Honestly now. She should have started worrying centuries ago.

* * *

Reina reached up, not for the first time, and ran her fingers over the woven silver circlet on her head. It felt just as she remembered it. Heavy, and slightly itchy. But that was probably just her imagination. She watched the proceedings with a soft smile. These were her people now. Or rather, her people again.

And yet all she wanted to do was take Nova's hand. She looked to the woman with a private sigh. There were too many eyes on them for her warrior to be comfortable with that. Her lips formed slowly into a smirk with a lovely idea as she leaned to her side.

"There's way too many people here," Reina whispered into Nova's ear. "Want to sneak away for a bit?"

Nova nodded her eager agreement and they were off, vanishing from the grand room without a sound. Reina held to Nova's hand contentedly as she led them out of the palace and the walls beyond until they reached the somber shore of the sea. They took off their masks and let them fall to the sand.

For a time, they simply stared at the rolling waves beneath the blue sky. Reina released the warrior's hand ruefully. Her musing words broke the silence.

"I wanted to have a new sword forged for you and give it to you as a gift," she said softly. "But… I think it's high time you got to chose your own blade."

Nova opened her mouth but found herself lost in thought. She pursed her lips, then gave a single, slow nod.

"I think… you might be right," she offered, voice barely cutting above the gentle roar of the waves.

Reina looked back with a smile as she kicked off her boots and strode into the water, letting it lap at her ankles. The current caught her robes and toyed with them like a pawing cat.

Nova smirked.

"You know Laurel is going to be furious," she cautioned, a hand on her hip. "Saltwater on your new robes. The horror."

"I'll tell her you pushed me in," Reina quipped, grinning widely.

"She wouldn't believe it," Nova scoffed.

Reina waved it away.

"Come on! The water's almost warm!" She held out an enticing hand.

Nova vacillated, but in the end, she couldn't resist that sweet smile. She removed her own boots, tugged up her pants, and stepped into the current.

Reina cheered in triumph, then paused in thought, a finger to her chin.

"You know… you're really pale. You should get out in the sun a little more."

Nova's face soured.

"Reina?"

"Hmm?"

"You missed a spot."

Nova darted down and launched a cascade of water at her, eliciting a gasp. Reina's mouth hung slack before she snapped it shut. "You," she said through tight lips, "are _so_ going to get it now."

Nova shot her an incredulous smirk.

"I don't know..." she mused. "I'm stronger and I can outrun you."

Reina gave a deadly smirk in turn.

"True," she admitted. "But I'm determined."

She dipped without warning, firing a mass of water, then more still until the warrior was pointedly drenched from head to toe. Nova returned her efforts in kind, cackling in triumph as Reina's sodden hair plastered itself in front of her vision and afforded the warrior an advantage. Reina brushed it back before scooping up a handful of water and slowly bringing it above Nova's head. She let the liquid fall, working it into the woman's hair with her fingers. And Nova let her, sighing in contentment as Reina settled against her, arms draped over her shoulders.

Reina placed a gentle hand on Nova's cheek and set her forehead against hers, admittedly a better plan in her head, as the warrior was slightly taller.

"I'm grateful," she whispered softly. "So very grateful." Reina closed her eyes.

Nova blinked in surprise, but it faded into a serene smile as the woman continued to speak. "So much has changed, but still… It all feels so familiar. And you're still here."

"I'll always be here for you," Nova promised.

Reina met the woman's eyes and pressed her lips to Nova's.

Nova shied back slightly, glancing up and down the beach.

"Someone might see," she fretted, yet she stopped herself. They weren't exactly inconspicuous right now, anyway.

"So let them," Reina said, offering a soft smile as she moved her arm to wrap around the warrior's waist.

"I'm sorry," Nova sighed, shaking her head ruefully. "Old habits…."

"It's alright," she soothed. "It's just something we'll have to work on."

Nova settled into the embrace, warmed by the simple touch. She thought back to all her journeys, her time spent searching endlessly for her queen. Never once had she imagined it would end like this. Her queen, her love, safe in her arms. It was far more than she could have ever let herself dream. And yet, on every voyage, every venture across the sea, every new city they entered, there had been that bud of hope, that seed of yearning. She'd wasted so much time, refusing it all.

Nova squared her shoulders and pulled back slightly, looking down at Reina. Those warm eyes stared back at her, reflecting her own heart perfectly. Without another word, Nova settled her hand against the woman's freckled cheek and placed a kiss on her queen's lips. Reina smiled against her and pulled her closer.

They stood on the shore for a time after, just the queen and her vassal.

A/N: Thanks for coming with on this journey, everyone. It's been a lot of work, but overall, I'm pleased with how it all turned out. Would love to hear your thoughts on it, as always, but regardless, take care and take care of each other.

-Azi


End file.
